Dowlan has a job interview at 3:00 p.m. on Friday. He would be working the midnight-8 shift at the university research lab as the overnight tech support guy. The salary is at the bottom of our range, but the benefits would be fabulous and the schedule really could work out well. He would be asleep in the daytime, so it would be a pain for the next few months. However, next fall, the girls start kindergarten, Charlie starts full-time pre-school and I start teaching again, so he'll have the house empty and to himself to get in a good 8 hours of sleep before we come home. I can also continue to work at Sylvan. It also means that the kids will have more time with Daddy--instead of waiting for him to come home in the evenings, we'll have all afternoon and evening to be together. And I'll still get him to myself for a few hours before he goes to work at night. This could work. It really could.
Mind you, Dowlan hasn't had a job interview in roughly fifteen years, and that was to work at Brake Check in college. So this may end up just a much-needed practice run. Really, it is just good to know that there are actually people looking at all those resumés and applications he sends out each week. It gets disheartening after awhile.
Even better news--we went to Melody's pre-op surgery appointment on Friday. To make a very long story very short, there is an issue with the state insurance and the surgeon's office not being an authorized provider for them. The surgeon said that he'd speak to the office manager to see if they could get anything pushed through. If not, they'd make sure they scheduled at a hospital that was an authorized provider so that the hospital got paid, and, if he couldn't get paid, to not worry about it. He referred to it as a mere 'twenty minutes out of my day' and said that the most important thing was that 'she gets to feeling better.'
I've dealt with a lot of doctors and insurance companies in my brief stint as an adult and am amazed. I have never once met one in either camp who was not worried about getting paid, let alone willing to do free surgery on a child he'd only met once.
The other thing I keep forgetting to tell you? Charlie's tongue finally healed flat. He no longer speaks with forked tongue. And he also learned a new word this week: penis.