Yesterday’s ridiculous interview exercise notwithstanding, I found much to be hopeful about on the job hunt front today. I applied for seven positions, and two of them were here in town. Most of the jobs I’m seeing, in the Southeast at least, mention that they will consider local candidates only or that no relocation assistance will be provided. That’s one good way for hiring companies to save a considerable amount of money on new hires, and, since there are a growing number of job seekers chasing a shrinking number of jobs, plenty of talent is available without having to import it from far off places. I don’t want to move myself if I don’t have to, and I certainly don’t want to pay to move myself. I’m too old to be schlepping furniture and boxes of stuff in and out of rented trucks. I need to hire it done, and I need relocation assistance from a new employer to do that. Without relo, I'm pretty much stuck with the local job market.
Bud the greyhound continues to exhibit exuberance for life in general and his walks in particular. It’s obvious that he’s in pain, but it doesn’t seem to slow him down much. The vet told us not to let him run or jump as his shoulder is extremely fragile and could break from the slightest impact. Keeping him still has proved more difficult than we thought. Bud loves a daily romp in the living room. He barks until
agrees to chase him. Most greyhounds don’t bark much, but Bud is a loudmouth and Sandy is a sucker for the barking. She loves an invitation to race. They go at breakneck speed in circles around the sofa. 90 seconds is about their limit, and there’s no stopping them until they are through. Then it’s nap time. It is really funny in a scary kind of way, and it’s hard to give a dog an authoritative command when you are laughing. Bud is my hero. Sandy