Rotten, Stinky Timing

Today, three weeks after accepting an unpaid (though fascinating and worthwhile) internship for the summer, I got the call of a lifetime. USA Rugby rang my mobile (as the British rugby gurus would say) and asked me if I was interested in working as a communications consultant for them this summer. Was I, for example, interested in travling to British Columbia for a 12-day, all expense paid trip to write about the men's national team? Was I interested in popping to San Francisco for most of July to write about an international match tour?

Was I interested???? YESS!!!!! YES I WAS!!!!!! But I cannot do it. I cannot leave my three part time jobs and my partial grad assistantship that pays my health insurance and paid my tuition this past year. I had to turn down a rugby writing job. WHO DOES THAT??? How many times in your life are you one of only three people in the nation qualified to do a job? And then how many times in your life do you have to flipping say no to the dangling fish on the hook?

Oh, I am worked up. I need to eat chcolate immediately. My Pirates tickets had better keep me close to the beer stand. I need to not think about my actions for awhile until I am ready to deal with my feelings of shock and horror at my rotten timing.