Stuck In the Middle

There's no intentional musical reference today, though I forgive anyone for thinking of Stealer's Wheel, and apologize to anyone who gets this song stuck in their head.

I have been out of work since Groundhog Day.  I have been banging out resumes for each and every position I've seen on the web or off.  Two weeks ago I walked six miles back and forth to hand in applications at the nearest hotels to my current residence.  I've even applied in other cities, some two or more hours away, trying to find anything.  Today I got an email from the GM who posted an ad for a full-time front desk agent.  We have an interview tomorrow morning.

After jumping up and down for a moment, I scampered about assembling a suitable outfit for the event: blue shirt, black slacks, belt, tie and black shoes.  My hair's gotten a little long, but not outside the acceptable range for a gentleman in this age.  It's just that my nails have gotten a little scary-looking.

I got my last fill-in in February.  I was hoping to go back to work any day, but that didn't happen.  I wonder now if that last bit of money might have been better spent getting the acrylic removed.  My nails still look good, but the tips reach almost a quarter-inch from the ends of my fingers.  If I had a Dremel (it what they use in the salon), I could grind them down a bit and then file the ends, but I don't have one.

Then again, the gentleman conducting my interview tomorrow is Indian, so he may not have an issue.

I'll let you all know how it goes.