Today was quite eventful, and I am suprised I am awake at this time to write it. It was HOT, HOT, did I say, HOT today! The worst I've ever experienced. And on top of that, I had an interview to go to, for which, in my typical fashion, I got lost again, having misunderstood the directions (or misinformed, rather). And there I was, walking in the wrong path again, this time lugging my heavy interview bag containing those dreaded interview shoes, wearing a suit that made me feel like boiled mashed potato, and my hair having bloated up to into a mushroom of frizz, literally glued all over my face. And all of this in such a weather!! I even feared I might drop any moment (and I think would have prefered it secretly) because I thought I felt the blood pounding in my veins and my head threatening to drive me dizzy with spinning.

Thankfully, that did not happen and I found the place, although I was about 15 minutes late. However, unlike that fussy, uptight law firm, this place proved more forgiving. In fact, I wonder if they noticed my delay at all. The interview was long but I think it went well and I feel like I heard optimistic vibes from the other party. However, the Director wanted me to start one of his programs this week, and in utter confusion, I mumbled an affirmative answer. Only five minutes after I left the building did I realize the implications of my hasty decision. I ran back into the building, inquired after the director, and told him that I had had some time to think over his propostion and that I would like to request more time to make a decision before I commit to anything. He looked at me with an extremely vexed look on his face and asked me, hesitatingly, if anything had happened in those 5 minutes to make me react this way. I replied politely that my agreeing so hastily at first was only a blunder and I would be wise to take time to comprehend the matter further. I think his quizzical stare might have sprung from another source, however. In the heat of the moment (no pun intended), not only had I stripped myself of my blazer, leaving me with a shirt with hints of dampness, but I also realized I was shamefully caught red-handed (or footed, if I maybe allowed the expression) wearing my comfy (red rimmed) flip-flops, instead of those formal shoes, which I am ever eager to dispose of instant I step out of a building where I had interviewed.

The faux-pas didn't bother me so much. Very little would have disconcerted me in that sweltering heat, except the HEAT itself. I decided to cool myself with an iced-latte, an indulgence I permit myself to partake in ocassionally. Afterward, I hung around in town for a while, having been tempted to pacify myself through a bout of shopping. Really, I was angry at the weather. I was fuming (literally, no doubt). I returned to my little abode safely in one piece and I had some time to actually relax and write this without panicking about how fast the time flew today. The train ride was relatively quiet, undisturbed by odd gentlemen, or wailing children and their mollycoddling parents.

I shall now attempt to not dwell on the myriad things I have to do (including whether I should go to another interview later this week), and instead focus on getting some much needed rest.