Chicago, Dreamiest BFF Ever, Good Luck Rituals

I have half a mind to write a bunch of bullet-point updates to stuff, but I just know that each bullet point would be like 250 words long, and that kind of defeats the purpose of bullets.  So, here's a series of unrelated full-length paragraphs:

I got sent to Chicago last week, on very short notice, to train people in a small law office my firm is acquiring.  I found out 2 days before I went that (1) several people who worked at the small law office at the time would no longer be working there once it became part of my firm; (2) they would still be in the office when I got there to train the ones who were staying; (3) we were seen as "the Huns coming in to take over" by some of them (words used by my COO in getting me ready for my trip); and (4) I was being sent ALONE.  And then I peed my pants.

It all turned out OK, even good.  There were several awkward passing-each-other-in-the-hall moments with one dude who was not being kept on, as I had to meet with his secretary, the lawyers in the offices on either side of his, and so on.  But that was as bad as it got. THANK CHRIST. 

This whole situation did give me the opportunity to make a joke in a meeting that had my boss laughing so hard his face turned red (I told the COO that when she showed up in Chicago on my second day there, I was going to tag her & run out.  Not the most hilarious thing ever uttered, but maybe people don't say things like that to her on the reg? Everyone laughed, the boss particularly hard, it goes in the win column for me).

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I had another dream about Hot Bill in which we were both perfectly well-behaved, goddammit.  I want to shake my dream self and yell at her "YOU'RE DOING IT WRONG!  YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE DOING IT!!!"

Speaking of Hot Bill, I sent him an email a few weeks ago after I had heard from Paul, who's going through some hard times.  He & his husband are separated, but living in the same house - a house they're renting where the one they own is up for short sale in the hopes that they can avoid foreclosure.  And he had recently gone through a 30-day rehab of some sort to quit drinking.  So I told Bill all this, and he called Paul, and then emailed me back to say it was the saddest conversation they'd ever had and he couldn't cheer Paul up at all.  He then wrote "I wish I could FedEx him my shoulder."  And then I died. 

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J got contacted by 2 headhunters last week - the first time he's heard from anyone in MONTHS.  One of them is someone he actually used to work with, so hopefully that will give him some kind of edge.  He got his resume updated and sent to both of them, and today the former co-worker was going to submit it to one of the coolest companies in the world. I gasped when he told me where it was.  So please, please cross your fingers, throw salt over your shoulders, toss a virgin into a volcano...  my man needs a fucking J.O.B.