I don't know what to expect going into an interview. A friend of my sister's, Ken, is going to try and hook me up with a job at the Curtain Call Dinner Theater (formerly the Elizabeth Howard one). Thus further integrating myself into a scenery I once knew a long time ago as a small kid going to this Indian restaurant cum market in the same Tustin shopping center, and the video rental store which preceded me going to Blockbuster and later on Netflix, back in the days when we copied our movies to blank VHS tapes.
Those days.... the days when I was told that we would live together forever and I dreamed that this was the perfect scenario, taking over my dad's business... and naturally everything that I took for granted in life has been taken swiftly, while I batted my eyes, only slightly incredulous that everything was now falling apart.
Or taken apart so that whatever we did now would be drawing on the labour of that past that I can no longer think of without feeling so pissed at myself for not taking advantage of it.
So I'm going into an interview tomorrow, if I can help it. I know the bus route, I'll have it saved somehow so that it'll be recollected tomorrow and I won't have that much of a problem taking care of that.
I really couldn't imagine walking there anyway. Not tomorrow.
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