Let's start with the bad news.

I didn't get the job I interviewed for. The letter came yesterday. August is right around the corner and I still don't have a teaching job. I need time to get my bearings in a new setting: school facilities, co-workers, the neighborhood, the commute. I need to take inventory of what I have available in the classroom. I need to buy new equipment if said inventory is lacking. I need to mentally prepare myself for what subject I'm teaching: band? orchestra? choir? general music? I need to make lesson plans. And I still don't have a teaching job.

fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck...

I got an email today from the assistant principal that set up the interview. He said something like "I think you are a great person and will do great things for music education. When you get a moment, I'd like to talk about your interview."

He basically could have said "I love you, but I think we should see other people." Basically. At least I'll be getting feedback from the interview...way to pour some salt on the wound. Now I need to mentally prepare myself to call this man. I may not burn bridges, but boy can I hold a grudge.

On to the good news. Fortunately, this was after I found out I didn't get the job.

One of Jordan's friend's mother is a doctor who is pretty well-off. His friend sees the benefit of this by having access to the family bank account, that kind of entitlement. Anyway, she and Jordan have been on a recent kick of trying out the swanky restaurants of Chicago once a week, and this week I was invited.

Good lord. I don't think I have ever eaten a more fancy meal at a more fancy place in my life. We're talking like $800 bottles of wine (we settled for a $140 Spanish rioja). We did a tasting menu, in which where there were fifteen different dishes served to us, and they were exquisite. They were portioned kind of small, but since there were fifteen plates, I left pretty satisfied. It was really the most sumptuous food I've ever had. And I loved that the waiters used all the highbrow terminology like amuse-bouche and apéritif when they were talking to us.

I was grinning like a fool the entire time, not going to lie. The bill was outrageous. It was fun to try, even if it was just once.

Sigh.

Street cleaning on the west side of Clarendon happens every second Thursday of the month. That means that cars can't be parked on that side of the road starting at 9am. I made it a point to get up early so I could move my car (parked on Clarendon) and go to school at the same time to be a little productive.

I left the apartment around 9:05 to see two cars already with tickets and the revenue lady slowly making her way down the street. I ran. I reached my car, rejoiced in the fact that there was no ticket, and got out of there.

Later that day when I did go to school, I decided to park in the neighborhood little ways off campus so I wouldn't have to deal with parking tickets from the school. Alex, Mark, and I a few hours later were walking to Jimmy John's for lunch when I saw White Sox traffic people and instantly remembered that parking near the stadium is definitely a no-no on game days. Yeah, my car was gone.

So I called to see where it had been possibly impounded. The first time I called I was directed to an automated response that asked for my plate number, which after I put it in said that it was too short. I have South Carolina plates, so it's only 6 digits. I can't help that I don't have as many numbers on my license plate as an Illinois car. So I called the original number again, and the lady at the other end told me that my car was simply moved.

No foolin'?

So yours truly, the fortunate parker, escaped a parking ticket and an impoundment fee in one day. And I definitely do not have the money for either. The day's far from over yet, so let's see if I can make it through the rest of the day unscathed. Hopefully I didn't just jinx myself.