Gods next task

So, God and I had a fight.  Well, actually, I threw a fit because I wasn’t getting my way. Hey, I don’t think it’s really fair because God is supposed to know what we want and need and he knows very well I want and need a job.  He has let me feed him delicious doughnuts and cinnamon rolls and continued to leave all the work up to me.   I decided he was being a typical man.  He sits back and watches angels fly around, eating the food I serve, and letting me sweat, so I decided not to give him anything this week.  No coffee, no sweets. So there!!

And guess what?  I got my first job offer in six months.  Ha!  I think God decided he better “man up” if he expects free treats.

So, our little spat is over, but I’m sure we will have others because now that have a job in the fall, I have picked out his new task – finding me a suitable significant other.

So, look out single, available, straight men who are not living with their parents or in an insane asylum.  (I realize that still leaves a wide girth of men that will NOT be favorable.  But, I have to start somewhere.) God has armed a cupid or two (or probably a flying monkey) and is picking your name from a Goblet of Fire.

Let the comedy of dating begin… “May the odds be ever in your favor.”

 

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STOMP – Do not attempt this at home.

So I finally did something really fun in this sandy desert; I went to see STOMP.  For those of you who are not familiar with STOMP it is a unique musical percussion show that uses different objects, including the body, to make different percussion sounds. https://nonsense2me.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/356a6-brooms.jpg

Check this out: http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=8CEwnXt-zk4

Totally contagious!  I mean, I could not wait to get home and get my floors as clean as the STOMP crew.  My normally grueling and boring Friday morning cleaning was revived when I tapped and stomped my mop against the two potties in my bathroom.  The sound was groovin when I decided to do a little spin and rap on the shower curtain rod hanging behind me.

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Well, it was hanging.  And so was the toilet paper.

They really need to put a disclaimer in the brochure: These are professionally trained sweeper-mopper-stomppers. Do not attempt this at home.

On the bright side, I may have come up with some new “tones” for the show.

No job God

Well folks, it’s the first week of June and I’m still waiting to hear if I will be teaching in the fall. 

I know you will all be as shocked as I was when I got this e-mail from the school in the Czech Republic. 

Dear Julie,

Thank you for being patient.

I regret to inform you that we will be proceeding with another candidate who has recent experience teaching in classroom with 3, 4 and 5-year-old students at the same time.

Thank you again for your interest and best of luck to you.

Best regards,

Seriously? I am still reeling from disbelief. Was that was the job I interviewed for?  Was I drunk when I did this interview? 3, 4 AND 5-year old’s? 3,4, and 5-year-old children? At the same time?  And, there are actually people out there have done this and are willing to do it again?   I mean really folks, I must have heard that one of the benefits was that I would get a bottle of rum each day just to cope with the madness.  Really, who ever accepted that position is insane or drunk.  Or happily both.

Speaking of insane or drunk, I interviewed for another job in China that asked me to do exactly that – teach 4, 5, and 6-year old’s – at the same time.  Not drink rum all day.  (But wouldn’t that be awesome? Rum all day.  But, I’m pretty sure that job is taken already. Lucky ducky.) 

Seriously folks, where was that little voice that talks you outta stupid shit you think you should do and you shouldn’t.  You know the one, the voice of “reason.”  The voice that would have said to me: “They are small and wiggley. They NEVER stop moving. Or talking.  And they are always sticky.  And, they almost never have money or liquor to share.”  If I had heard that voice I might have reconsidered and become the next American Idol – boom operator.  Are American Idolian’s sticky? Crap.

Hey, here’s what needs to happen; You guys need to pass my blog around, brag about it and get me famous so I can write a New York Times Best selling book that will become the next summer blockbuster, where Nicole Kidman plays me and George Clooney plays God, and save me from the sticky booze-less children. 

In the meantime, I am taking my friend’s advice and upgrading my “gifts” to God. 

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That’s right folks, those are two delicious smelling, massive, walnut Cinnabon cinnamon rolls with extra icing.  Now, I was hesitant to dish out the money for these magnificent treats to God because I am pretty sure he will say, “If you can afford goodies like this, chickee-poo, than you can solve your own problems.” 

But, I will have a little faith and believe that God is a slob like one of us, will gorge on these delectable treats, go in to a sugar induced frenzy and start granting all of my wishes like the good God that He is.  And probably get sticky.  Crap.