Catching up a bit, Albert Ellis is in his 90's now but he remains feisty and opinionated. A couple of years ago at a psychology convention there was a "discussion" between Ellis and Aaron Beck, who is another pioneer of cognitive therapy who is now in his 80's. Beck was charming and accommodating. Ellis was blunt and wasted no words. From a description of their exchange: 'Beck reflected and then said, to Ellis: "Everybody believes they're right. Why should we believe *you*?" Not missing a beat, Ellis replied, "I believe the probability exists that I'm wrong and they're right... but it's only a very low degree of probability." '

Are these any good? I see them in the store, and ... they scare me.

They taste just like every other non-fruit pop tart, oddly enough.

Ellis replied, "I believe the probability exists that I'm wrong and they're right... but it's only a very low degree of probability."

This encapsulates my stance on the matter exactly.

/me sends quarters to all "helpless so someone else has to take care of stuff" relatives. Don't spend it all on one clue, dears.

Best ~ma to you and your mom, and grandmother, and the whole family, Anne.

Anne, so sorry your mom has to deal with crappy family stuff on top of dealing with losing her mother. Much strength to her and you and your whole family.

Also to Maria and your soon-to-be in-laws.

Oi. It is 80 degrees in my office and they won't fix the ac or get us fans. I'm a very, very cranky worker right now. Also, kind of hung over.

It is 80 degrees in my office and they won't fix the ac or get us fans.

At some point, aren't they legally obligated to close? Sheesh.

Thanks for the well-wishes on the whole Nana situation. I'll keep y'all posted as I hear anything.

Can I bitch irrationally about getting rejected for a job I applied for?

Bitch away, Susan. Goodness knows I've griped enough on that same subject for the past year.

Please do, Susan. I've got all this unfocussed anger that I'm trying not to direct at my co-workers. Let's point it towards the people who were foolish enough not to hire you.

So I was just over at the UW employment website checking the status of all my applications with them--I've sent six so far. Two are still in review at HR. Two more are listed as "resume forwarded to department." Two others, which were "resume forwarded" on Friday, are now "considered, not selected." One I'm fine with, because the position was only open for one week rather than the standard 2-3 or "open until filled." That's usually code for, "we have a candidate we really want to hire, but we have to play by HR's rules by listing the position and interviewing at least one other person." So it's probably just as well I'm not going to waste my time getting dressed up and getting the neighbor to babysit Annabel just to be that other person.

But the other was for a writing position. Granted, a writing position in the Development office, so I almost decided not to apply, since I've been so unhappy in every development job I've ever had. But I thought this might be different, because it's a writing job.

Again, it's probably just as well. I don't really want to go back to development. But, dammit, they should've been impressed enough with my cover letter and my writing samples to give me an interview!

Believe me, Susan, btdtETA: I've gotten CG to start saying "nsm" now... funny, huh? I'm a little proud and a little bit feeling responsible for one of those three-eyed fish on the Simpsons, and also, my gosh, I type that a lot. I wonder if I should be embarrassed, but, really, nsm.
ETA: I'm feeling a bit conflicted about the work thing, too, Susan. Because I get these mailings about these new programs, right? But I know with my transit situation, that this office job, assuming I could get one at my typing speed, which, although picking up impressively for *me* talking to you lovely folks, is far from 60 wpm. If I got one, though, just getting there and home every day, would eat my life...I'd never get to do anything else again. But when I think I'm better off where I am, I feel incredibly guilty and ashamed, like I'm making the choice to be non-contributing and of course work sucks, and, you know... I really need to finish my book, and I can. Mom's okay with it, which is a sort of perverse "privilege", but I love it and I hate it.