More of this, more of that

Well, there's nothing new to report as far as getting a new job, but I did go to a meeting last night for my extremely part time job last night. Best business meeting I have ever been to. The regional sales manager got through everything we were supposed to cover, no unreasonable requests or demands were put to us, and we had a great dinner at an Italian restaurant. (Which we were paid to eat, BTW.) All meetings should be so pleasant. I got my new schedule, and there's a lot more work for me, (yay!) Upgrades the job to very part time. Not that I am complaining, mind you, I knew it was just weekends and not even every weekend, or even both days of the weekend when I applied. It was a good idea to take this job, because even after I get my new full time job, I will be able to do this one as well. I really enjoy this job too. It's nice to enjoy what you get paid for.
The Pancake Story
So I thought I would tell you a story about our boy, Gonzo. There's quite a few of them, so I will tell them as I remember to. Around the time we first got Gonzo, we realized that he was an odd eater. Sometimes he needed encouragement to eat his dinner, although he would polish it off when he did start eating it. We determined that it was the pack thing kicking in again, and he wouldn't eat until we were finished. Of course, sometimes if we fed him when we weren't eating, he didn't know what to do, and would leave food in his dish until later.
That said, one night, my husband had made us dinner. He made pancakes, but I was really in the mood for some of the leftovers we had. So we had these leftover pancakes, and Gonzo was looking all kinds of hopeful, and in his dish they went.* He sniffed them, and followed my husband into the living room, sitting at his feet. "Ah, well, maybe he'll eat them later," and we watched tv for a while. After awhile, my husband was ready to head up to bed, so he starts up the stairs and calls to Gonzo. Gonzo, (who had not forgotten about the pancakes) ran towards the stairs. Then, seemly stopping in midair, turned and ran back towards the kitchen, and grabbed up the pancakes. He ran by me in the living room, pancakes a-flapping in his mouth. Well, I started laughing so hard, saying, "Hang on, big guy, I'm bringing the pancakes!"(I do voice-over work for Gonzo a lot.) My husband, who hadn't seen any of it, called down the stairs, "What's so funny?" I told him about the about-face and the flapping pancakes. He said, "Gonzo didn't have any pancakes when he got up here," which set me off again into a new fit of laughter. Good boy, Gonzo. No one said you had to share.

*I do not make a habit of feeding our boy table scraps or pancakes, but sometimes, he just wears me down with those hopeful puppy eyes.

More to come, so come back if you're interested.