Either I've been very good or very bad. Or the moon is in the seventh house. Or something.
I say that because in the past 24 hours, I have been offered or invited to apply for three--count 'em, three--different positions. Which is odd because no one's ever coming knocking at my door like that. Ever.
I have officially been headhunted.
How this happened, I don't know. I mean, yeah, I understand there's a labor shortage, but honestly, I can think of a dozen people in New Orleans who would feel right at home in these jobs--people who, unlike me, lost their jobs in the wake of the storm. Not that I'm complaining, mind you--hell, I'm flattered--but it seems more than a little weird. Did someone replace the "KICK ME" sign that's usually on my back with one that reads "READY TO MOVE ON"?