By The Power...

I passed by a white stretch limo on my way home just now. I think it's a good omen.

I've never cried like that before... I'm not sure how I know, but it was somehow different. Fat tears rolling down my face, the kind of crying I've only ever seen in cartoons - Simba comes to mind, just after his father's death. Fat tears like those ones. But happier.

The blessing said that I should be happy and understanding, no matter the outcome of the interview. That scared me. It's not the first time I've heard wording like that, "What's supposed to happen will happen." I don't want what's supposed to happen, I want what I want to happen.

But then he said that if I prayed specifically for the outcome I want, I'll get it. He actually said that. So that's what I've been doing, in my mind and out loud.

He said Grandma Mollie was on my side. She would be, wouldn't she? She was a writer too. I always forget because I was only nine when she died. But I do have one specific memory of her sitting in a folding chair by the trampoline, yellow legal pad on her lap.

I'm not afraid anymore. I feel almost weirdly calm, actually. But I still think I'll fall asleep upside-down on my bed so I can watch TV until I fall asleep. It keeps me from thinking too much, makes it a lot easier to fall asleep.