I couldn’t fall asleep last night. Ended up reading my spy-thriller book until 2:30 and then listening for wall-dwelling creatures for another hour or so. I don’t know. I’ve turned off all the clocks in the room because the lights keep me awake. Ha. (I think that’s irony.)

That bit of brain hamster on crack should have been a clue.

I had an interview today for an executive director position for a smallish non-profit. I’m still doing the free-lance consultant thing, but to be honest, the money isn’t exactly pouring in. And the coffers at Chez Journey are getting a little low. And Mama needs to paint the house. Among other things.

I’d be an excellent fit. It’s a membership organization for musicians and they need someone who can provide administration and leadership and write grants and “be the public face” of the organization. And, and, and I’d be perfect. Really, I would.

But I really knew I wanted it when, 30 minutes before the call, my heart was racing and I was breaking a light sweat. I know what you’re thinking. I am a woman “of a certain age” but, no. I haven’t started “power surging” just yet.

To cope I wrote down my questions for them. You know, the interview equivalent of a list. I love my lists.

The time zipped by. Only 30 minutes?! Really!? I had a lot more questions left but they had other calls. Other interviews. (What were they thinking? Cancel them all! No need. Hire this one now!!)

We rang off with assurances that I’d hear from them soon.

I sent a thank-you email, highlighting a few things from the conversation and saying “I’d really like to work with you.” I hope I wasn’t too coy.

And now, the waiting. It’s grey and threatening rain. The political discourse is depressingly contentious. Found out one friend has lost his job and another’s sister is starting chemo and someone from the church has a daughter who had a brain aneurysm yesterday and is now brain-dead. Married with two kids still in school.

Maybe I’ll go finish my book and take a little nap.