Dullsville, baby

That's work lately. There is little for me to do. Desk still messy. Mostly it's papers, papers that technically could be filed, but I hate filing. Home has some of the same stuff. I figure that eventually, the piles of paper will biodegrade and return to the earth, in the circle of life. Right?
Adoption proceedings are proceeding. We had the interviews. I felt awkward. I do hate answering those kinds of questions--the "tell me about yourself" questions. Who doesn't? Well, this one dude at work. But he must be an exception. But it wasn't too bad. I think. We didn't get a big red stamp on our foreheads that says "BAD PARENT MATERIAL".
I have been thinking more and more lately about the actual waiting, matching, placing process. Some days, I feel like no one could ever possibly choose us as parents. We don't have a big house, or a backyard. We don't have a loyal family dog. We don't even have a car. We don't go to church, and our families live in other places. Strike, strike, strike, etc.
Other days I think, why not pick us? We're young. We're cute. We're fun and funny. We have educations. Jobs. We spend time with kids of all ages and we like it. We are great together. We have a cute place to live. We live in a nice city. It's diverse. It has good schools. Our families are excited. Our 17 year old cat proves we can take care of small crying things and stick with it. We have nice friends.
Other times I don't think about any of this stuff. I think about other people who have adopted. Lots of them have flaws, too. They're not perfect. They got a kid. Someone chose them, and they're doing okay.
Then I'll read about someone who never got chosen.
That's sad and I don't know what to think then. It's easy to see us in that position. That makes me glum, chum.
We haven't chosen a placing agency yet. That's hard.