I went back to church yesterday. And I may have gotten a job from going.
No, I am not going to become a nun.
As the -- what would you call it? The ceremony? The show? The SERVICE! -- service ended, once again people came over to talk to me as though I were a celebrity. And does this town kill me at all? One woman said, "I hear you're going back to get your car this week!"
And you are...?
For some reason, it doesn't bother me that everyone is up in my grille. I do have a blog, after all. You all know it when I scratch my watch or wind my ass.
After I signed autographs and worked the crowd, I was on my way back to those snacks when the minister asked if he could talk to me. Seems the church secretary quit and he heard (of course) I'd had an interview this week, so was I interested?
So, in an hour and a half, I am going to CLIMB the HILL and go talk to him. This kills me. I love the idea of being church secretary. I mean, if it's full time, I can't do it, as I am still working part time and charging a fortune to LA clients. But if it's 20 hours a week?
I am so getting sweater sets in every color, and also cat-eye glasses with sparkles on the sides. Don't think I won't. I am going to be just like that annoying secretary in the Mitford series, who says "peedaddle" all the time.
Perhaps I should remember that it is called a church service if I take this job.