Wednesday

My recent job hunt has been an enlightening, terrifying, disappointing and nerve-wracking experience. I've passed on a couple of jobs and been turned down for one. I'm to the point where I start to question if I'll ever find anything, anything at all!, that I'll even remotely enjoy. It also makes me wonder how many people out there hate their job, see it as something that they do only because they have to, see it as merely a paycheck. I'm not special, I don't have any especially brilliant or unique qualifications and I don't have umpteen years of experience with any one thing under my belt, but I do know what will make me happy and what will make me miserable. I know that I need to continue on with college and additional education to get to where I really and truly want to be. Nutrition is my passion, and I'd love to have a career related to that in some way. (Let's not spread the word that everything you need to know about good health, weight loss and nutrition can easily be found online or in a book, and would require no more than honest dedication and time to actually read and learn.) I have been seriously thinking about going back to school and getting my degree, but I feel like it'd be more practical to do so when Ethan is a bit older.

So what do I do in the meantime? I've only been on the hunt for a couple of weeks now, but that's plenty of time to realize you're a dime a dozen and that the pickins aren't necessarily slim, but the chance of getting a job I'll genuinely enjoy is. That makes me really, really sad. I can hold my breath until that perfect job comes along, or I can take the next ho-hum clock-in-clock-out position that crosses my path. I don't want to interview for something I know I'll hate, but am I being too picky? When I turned down the first job I was confident that I'd find something better. Now I feel that ever so subtle twinge of regret begin to ache in the back of my head.

I am trying to feel good about the choices I've made thus far, and all I can do is hold my head high, try to keep my confidence up (though my optimism and excitement are slowly plunging downward) and continue the search. I'm anxious to make the change to working mom, eager to get Ethan into daycare, not because I don't want to be at home with him anymore but because I really feel that it's time for him to be around other kids. My own social isolation is bad enough, and I certainly don't mean to keep my toddler in a protective bubble (let him fight over blocks and get dirt under his fingernails and sing songs and have snack time and eat crayons already!), but right now the circumstances are kind of beyond our control. I've located exactly ONE playgroup in our area, and when I called to find out more information the lady told me that the group hadn't met in awhile and that she didn't exactly know if it was going to continue or not.

The pressure is on, and part of the time I think I'm being to antsy, that I need to chill the fuck out and remember that getting a job takes time, something will come along, I'm doing what I can. The other part of me says why don't you have a job already? All this change for the better depends on you, and nothing is happening! LOSER!

Months ago this whole scene would have made me eat an entire box of cookies and a gallon of ice cream, and then I'd wash it down with 1.5 liters of cheap Merlot. I don't go there anymore, thank gawd, and I'm doing really well with my training and my food. At least I'm successful in one area of my life, right? Also, D and I have been getting along better than ever. I don't know what's changed in the last month, but we're so disgustingly in love and happy it'd make you ill. We're like the 3 amigos. One happy little family. We're in a good place and I know it's only going to get better, if I could only get my mopey ass a job. Should I start practicing my "Would you like fries with that?" or what?

Ok, ok... has anyone seen the Family Guy movie? The part where Stewie is shaving his body and Brian walks in and Stewie asks him if he'll "shave his coin purse"? Priceless. Fucking GENIUS humor. All men should now refer to their balls as 'coin purses'.

Well then. No wonder noone will hire me.