05.10.02 - 2:44 p.m.

It sounds dumb, and cheesy, and it is, but I think I really want this job. Well. Really, there's a few jobs for the taking: one editorial assistant to the CEO, one to the food and entertaining department, and one to the home and decorating department. Actually, that last one might be like a liaison between the departments, but I'm not sure. Anyway.

So in any of the jobs I'd still be doing administrative stuff, and the pay isn't any better than what I'm making here, but it made me so happy just to be in a magazine office again. And the women were smart, and not so dowdy even though the magazine is, and it just seemed like it would be all right if I went there. We talked about Trading Spaces. I could be involved, I could research and edit and style and write again.

If I don't get offered at least ONE of the positions, I'm going to feel very stupid indeed.

Of course, if I don't, then we could move to Chicago in November....Gah! Casey! Stop it! That's nearly impossible and you know it. This is a conversation I'm not ready to have, even with myself. Which means now I'm thinking about it, making my mental list of pros and cons. What would I do there? Where would I work? It's all about work these days. I left there to be with Dan, yes, but also because I wanted a big fat magazine job. If I go back, what are my choices?

Also I might want to keep my car. If we're going there.

Dan is off to South Bend and the Field of Dreams. I miss him already. Even if I haven't been the best to him lately, even if we only get to talk at small times before and after sleep, I still miss him when he's not there.

I have to clear my mind now. Concentrate on my "test" for the magazine. Think of story ideas. Be a big girl.

But I'm not a big girl. Because I think, finally, actually, Jack knows I hate him! Why is this so maniacally funny to me? Going to hell in a handbasket, I so am. Snarf.