I got a job, y'all!!
I'm working in the dispatch center of a police department that's in the same city as the fire department I worked for until our, um, separation. This is good for many reasons: I already knew several of the dispatchers and officers so I kinda fit in already, my commute is only about five minutes longer than it was before, and it gets me back into police dispatching, which I've missed.
I have only one tiny complaint: they put me on day shift for training. Day shift, y'all. As in, be at work at six in the morning. That's just a couple hours past my usual bedtime. Ugh. So the last two weeks I've become a daywalker. (For those of you not comic book geeks like me, that's a vampire who has developed some immunity to the sun.) I made an impassioned plea to the captain to allow me to train on nights, but he remained unmoved. Amused, but unmoved. He did tell me, however, that if I worked very hard to learn that he'd let me move to nights sooner rather than later. I met that challenge and I'll be starting on night shift on Sunday. Hooray for not having to wake up at 4:30 a.m.!! Maybe he let me move just so he wouldn't have to hear my whining any longer, but I like to think it's because I'm wicked smart, so we'll go with that.
Twelve hour shifts again, so I'll still have three or four days off every week to work on the house. That's a very good thing, because winter is closing in fast and I'm determined to get the outside of the house done this year. I'm cautiously optimistic.