I began to write yesterday but it was about a spider bite on my leg, with pictures. I couldn't post it. Then, I ran out of time. I watched the baby-boy all day yesterday. In the afternoon we went to the mall. It was useless and I bought nothing, of course. But it was a place to walk around and let time pass. I feel like a retiree, my knees hurt and I often fart unexpectedly, a surprise even to myself. Sound travels faster than messages through my own nervous system, so I am always genuinely startled by the event. The look of surprise eventually giving way to satisfaction.
I sat in the food court and sipped a coffee while Rhys napped.
As the days pass I am beginning to wonder about the interview. There were answers to questions that simply were not good. One of them was bad, in fact. I keep replaying it in my head, wondering why I let myself get so comfortable, why I would let myself speak the truth. Ooops.
Oh well, it is a learned act, interviewing. One must always keep their defenses up, be prepared for anything. The thing that might have been my undoing was how comfortable and natural they all were. I let my defenses down. I don't think I started talking about drowning kittens in a pillowcase or anything, but I might have discussed the different ways ecstasy can be introduced into the body. I don't think I actually used the word "anus," though I might have picked a fond euphemism as a substitute. Though in all likelihood the image of me inserting my index finger gently into a barely closed fist, showing how best the insertion of powdered drugs into the bottom-hole works, might have been far more more memorable than the actual words I was speaking ever could have been.
Well, we'll see. It's only been one week. I don't think the phrase was anything quite as elaborate as "pooty-pucker" but the soft stare that I fixed on my interviewer as I was describing the process could have proved to be unsettling. I wanted to make sure that I had gained her trust before moving on with the explanation. It is an important and vital part of describing any sensitive process.
"Now, once your index finger is in up past the second digit you must be prepared for anything. Do you understand what I mean by 'anything'?"