No Fudge Yet

No 9" square pan. I want chocolate. I am having trouble sleeping. Too many questions whirling through my head. Maybe I'll pour chocolate syrup in my mouth. Goodnight. I can hardly wait to have a job; I hope I get the job at Chicago Shakespeare Theater. Stupid Jenny gave me crap about applying for jobs in which I have no experience. That drives her nuts. But she's dumb because she doesn't get it. I'm qualified; I've just never had that title...Public Relations Assistant. (I like the sound of it). It took forever to apply because I had to write a good cover letter, resume, of course, salary history, and three writing samples. I didn't want to only send in Sun-Times stuff, so then I had to search through email from three years ago to find the stuff I did for a corporate newsletter at a temporary position. If they're interested, I'll hear in about two weeks. But I've never worked at an arts organization, which they said they would prefer. It really is so much easier to worry about other people and think about how they could be better rather than work on myself...that's really hard.