Another Year Older...and hopefully wiser?

I finally turned 27 this past week. For the first time since I turned 22 (such an anticlimactic age), I was actually looking forward to it. Because the entire year I was 26 sucked--majorly sucked. So I'm ready to turn over a new page in the book of my life. A clean page. In a way it feels like another chance. I've got a new job and for the first time in a year and a half, I like what I'm doing. I believe in the company I work for. I'm not spending all day proofing ads that everyone just throws in their trash with barely a glance for a company that steals people's money (albeit in a legal way) and for an agency that is slowly destroying my soul. It's demoralizing to get up and go to a job every day that you hate. That you know you're not great at and that nobody truly appreciates the work you do. My title at my previous full-time job may have been Copy Editor, but I (and all the others in the proofing department) were treated as the agency scapegoats. Because problems weren't solved unless blame was apportioned. It was less about fixing errors than about never making them, unless you were an account rep and then your errors were never your own; it was our fault for not figuring out they were errors.
But back to now. Now I'm at a job I like. The people work together. The goal is to produce the best product possible; not who can make the most people look bad in order to work their way up the corporate ladder fastest. And my co-workers like me. They like how I do my job. And if I find something in a later round of proofing, nobody ever says, "Why didn't you find it before?" Despite the fact that I'm commuting on the interstate now (something I've always tried to avoid) and my commute is sometimes 45 minutes or more, I don't dread the trip because I like the job I get to do when I arrive.
But I'm not forgetting everything I learned while I was unemployed. I don't want to stay in the rat race of Corporate America for the rest of my life. So I'm still going to apply to grad school. It's just that now I don't have to do so while sleeping on my grama's couch. It's a nice feeling to know that I'm paying my own way again. As I've mentioned before, I enjoy my self-sufficiency. I always have. So here's to a new year (because the one in January did not come in with a bang). It can't be worse than the last, so I'm letting my hopes become buoyant again.

Free At Last!

Saturday marked the end of my time working in shoe hell. Whoo! A day earlier than I had expected. It's one of the few jobs I've quit in my life. The only one since college. And no matter how much I dreaded working there, quitting was hard. Or maybe awkward is a better word for it. I'd originally said (in my interview) that I planned to stay even if I got a full-time job. And it wasn't meant to be a lie, if I'd gotten any of the jobs I was interviewing for last spring, I would have had to just to make ends meet and pay back my parents. Plus, I worked with nice, cool people. But as my mom reminded me there are plenty of people out there who need that job more than me now. Besides, I was planning on giving notice anyway so that I could go on vacation and move. Now I get to take my vacation without having to stress about coming back and boxing all my stuff up afterwards. It's a good feeling. Which is something I haven't felt in quite awhile. And hopefully, this means the end of my nightmares about shoes.

Maybe Quitters Really Do Prosper

This is a bit behind the times, but it's been an overwhelming past few days. Last week I finally decided that after getting rejected by all the companies I'd managed to get interviews with--because, despite the fact that I was applying for jobs for which I was amply qualified and going to be taking big pay cuts, they all had oodles of more qualified applicants to choose from--that maybe right now just wasn't the right time and I'd be better off focusing on grad school. I'd talked to my parents about consolidating my stuff with the stuff they already have in storage and moving back to Nebraska to live with my grama and uncle. I'd figured out when I needed to give notice at the shoe store and my apartment complex. And I'd agreed to go hiking in Yosemite with my dad in July. On Tuesday of last week, my mom bought me a plane ticket to fly out for two weeks (because, hey, I'm unemployed and if I'm going to fly out to see my parents, it might as well be a long enough trip to make it worth my while). On Wednesday, I get a call from one of the temp agencies I've been on the books with since September wanting to know if I'm available immediately. I tell them I can work out shifts at DSW but that I've got this two week trip planned for July that it's too late to change. I assume this is going to be it because every other time they've called me, it's all amounted to nothing, especially if I've had anything that might conflict. So on Friday, I'm at DSW to pick up a new pair of shoes before I turn in my notice on Saturday (I'd rather it not look like I'm only buying shoes to get the discount...though that's exactly what I'm doing), when I get a phone call from the temp agency wanting to know if I can start work on Monday morning for an indefinite (read as long as they like me and I like them) period.
So that's it. I'm employed again. I just had to completely give up all hope of ever finding a job in order to acheive it. Maybe quitting isn't such a bad thing after all. (Though my DSW managers aren't terribly happy with me for quitting on them, but as I've tried to explain, they were going to lose me anyway, and this job pays enough that I don't have to deal with the stress of working 7 days a week, so it's not worth it.)

Wedding Bell Blues and the Limbo Life

The problem with weddings is that they remind me of how chronically single I am. I don't much care for casual dating (and my go at it last August definitely didn't make me want change my mind) and I've found that while I like going to bars and can't imagine dating a guy who didn't like them as well, I don't like the guys I meet there. I'm not saying I'm not happy for my friend. Her wedding was beautiful; her husband was charming and everything one could want. Actually it wasn't so much the wedding as being there with my parents, my sister and her boyfriend. I felt like a fifth wheel, especially as the only other people I knew were the bride's family. We knew each other growing up, but our families moved so we didn't go to high school together. It also makes me feel more and more like I'm doomed to be an old maid as I go to weddings of friends who are younger than me. I'm just glad that my younger sister isn't ready for that yet. Not that it really matters as she and her boyfriend have been together forever. And so I'm stuck wondering what I'm doing wrong that I seem to be the only one who isn't coupling off as if ordained by some godlike force. It's not like I'm against marriage. But where is one supposed to meet anyone worth dating? And it's hard to even contemplate dealing with that when I don't even know where or how I'm going to be living at the end of the summer. Part of me thinks perhaps leaving Dallas is the right thing to do. But then I remember how long it took me to find friends and how much I love the friends I have here. I've never had a hometown. And I hated having to leave my friends behind when I moved from Kansas to Iowa between 7th and 8th grade. If I could take them all with me, then I would move anywhere. But that's not possible. And it makes me wish even more that I had a husband. Because then it doesn't matter where you move as long as you move together. You always know at least one person, no matter where you go. Although my friend who got married last week is going to spend the next six months on her own while her husband finishes his army training, which just goes to show that life is never easy for anyone. We all have challenges that we must face. And we have to be strong enough to face them even if it's on our own. Which sounds so trite and stupid. Just like everybody keeps telling me "Everything happens for a reason." And that when it's the right job and what I'm meant to be doing, it'll all work out. But with more rejection piling up on me each week, and emails informing me that more qualified candidates were chosen for jobs that I was amply qualified for, I despair of anything working itself out. Because I'm not doing anything wrong. I'm simply competing with people who I should never have to compete with in a normal economy for near-entry-level jobs that I shouldn't have any problems getting. I'd feel bad for the new college grads if my life didn't suck so much that I can't spare any pity for anyone else. At least none of them have been unemployed for 9 months. I don't know what I'm supposed to do until I manage to get into grad school (even if I apply this fall and by some miracle get accepted, I still have to find a way to live for the next 16 months or so and there's no way I can work as a retail slut for that long; I'll lose my mind). I'm living in limbo and I'm not talking a fun game to play at parties. I can't get a job; I can't get a guy; and I can't make any plans with anyone. I had to miss my favorite cousin's graduation this weekend to boot. It is the icing on top of a cake of life sucks. Black licorice-flavored icing on a cake in which the sugar was replaced with salt, the outer ring is dry and the inside isn't baked all the way through.

Stomped on by the Giant Elephant of Life Sucks

One of my friends was reassuring me tonight and said she was hopeful for me even when I had trouble with it myself and I told her, "Oh, I'm still hopeful. It's just that I keep getting my hopes up only to have them stomped to death by the giant elephant of life sucking." I have trouble believing in the power of prayer and the like when I know that despite all my friends and family and myself praying for me to find a job, I still get passed over and rejected at every turn. And I know that that's really not how I should be thinking about it, but, damn it, it's hard not to after 9 months of job hunting (and it really has become a hunt; I think that editorial jobs in Dallas ought to be up on the endangered species list--there have barely been any new job postings in my field in the last month). Faced with the prospect of having to borrow thousands of dollars more from my parents (as Jane put it so succinctly in P&P, "How is half such a sum to be repaid?"), put my stuff in storage and move halfway across the country, it is increasingly difficult to be hopeful about anything. My current job definitely does not inspire hope. In fact, I am quickly becoming jaded about humankind as nearly all of my shifts at work have involved some kind of brush with theft. Apparently people who read are inherently more honest. I can only remember one significant case of theft in the two plus years I worked at Barnes and Noble in high school. I've already had to deal with ladies who stick shoes in purses or attempt to walk out with them on their feet and men who stick shoes down their pants (Nancy Drew: Shoe Detective...there's a reason nobody's made that movie). It's not like they're necessary to your life. It's not like you can't go to Wal-Mart or Payless and get something passably stylish. It in simply incomprehensible to me how these people can live with themselves. I would feel like I was walking around with two cement blocks of guilt on my feet if I ever stole a pair of shoes. But apparently my values are not a reflection of our society en masse. The only good news right now is that I have four days off from Shoe Hell to work on my stories. If I could just finish a novel, then maybe all my troubles would be resolved. At the very least I could say "HA!" to all the people I went to high school with at my ten-year reunion whenever it is (I'm just glad it's not this summer). So, yes, right now I really feel as if Life has stomped on my spirit and left it behind forgotten and groaning into the dirt.

Don't Let Them Eat Me!

It's official. There's something worse than having to work in retail. Having shoe-nightmare-induced insomnia. Everytime I close my eyes I start seeing shoes, so many shoes. Spilling out of boxes and strewn all around me and as I'm racing to put them away, more keep piling up in every direction. WHY? WHY AM I CURSED WITH NIGHTMARES ABOUT SHOES? WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH MY MIND? It's not enough that being on my feet, running to and fro across a store makes my calves ache and my feet want to fall off. Or that I'm so tired my brain feels like scrambled eggs over easy. No, now my mind has decided to intrude upon the hours that should be a blissful escape from the hell that my daily existence as become. Tonight I can't even make it into REM sleep because the moment I close my eyes four-inch heels and wedges start dancing across my eyelids and I'm forced back awake. I'm SOOO tired. Why does my mind hate me so much? All I want is to sleep for a few hours. Is that really so much to ask?

Entitlement and Epiphany

Yesterday, my younger sister told me she was proud of me and how I'm handling all the shit life's been throwing at me. That meant more to me than I could even explain, especially since I've been feeling like the worst failure ever. She also said that she'd finally realized the value of how our parents raised us and I agreed with her completely. Growing up, we never got rewards for good grades or good behavior. It was a standard that was simply expected of us. As a result, she and I have never felt like we should be entitled to things. We've known that if you want something, you have to work for it. When I wanted to get special toys, I had to save my allowance for months to buy them. But I don't mind that because they meant more that way. My sister was complaining about someone she knows who doesn't have a job because she "doesn't want to work" and yet goes out and buys expensive cars and eats out every night because she feels like the world owes her that lifestyle. And she expects for other people (family and friends) to bail her out when she winds up in debt. It pissed my sister off to no end and I was in complete agreement with her. It's that sense of entitlement that brought about the economic depression we're in right now. And part of what is so annoying (to both of us) is that we're suffering from it, my sister will graduate in less than a year, possibly six months and have to compete with mid-level career job seekers for entry-level positions, and yet, we didn't participate in the problems that brought this about. My mom passed along an article from the SF Gate today that tied right into this. It explains so well why my employers have always been impressed with my work ethic. I didn't understand at the time, because I just did what was asked and expected of me: I showed up on time; I worked whatever hours necessary; and I did what I was told to do. Like I said, that's how I was raised. A couple of years ago, one of my co-workers ran across a survey of college students about to graduate. The majority of them said they expected to be earning over $100K/year at their first job. And I laughed and said, well the real world will come as a slap to the face for them. But I'm learning that whether or not they're paid that, people are living as if that's what they make. It's especially prevalent in the area of Dallas that I live in. People drive expensive cars and rent expensive apartments that I just don't understand how they can possibly afford. Especially since I see them out in the middle of the day, walking their pedigree dogs in the park. What sucks the most is that despite the fact that I am not like those people, I can't get anyone to give me a chance. I can't get anyone to let me learn on the job. Today I had an interviewer reject me before even meeting me. And it hurts even more than the rejections that come without offering me a chance at all. Because they held out the candy to me and then just as I was reaching out for it, pulled it back and said, wait a minute, we don't want to share with you after all. I just want to SCREAM at the top of my lungs because I actually WANT to work my ass off (and I'm almost back to entry-level salary) but nobody will let me!

Pondering Back Up Plans and Zack and Miri Make a Porno

"You jest, but these are the exact circumstances that people find themselves in right before they start having sex for money and making porn." - Miri
...
"If it's so easy, how come everybody doesn't do it?" - Miri
"Because other people have options. And dignity. Which we do not have. Which puts us in an amazingly advantageous position." - Zack
"Fuck you. I have dignity." - Miri
"Where? Is it hidden in your gigantic underpants that are plastered all over the internet? Is that where you hide your dignity?" - Zack

Today I had my first shift as a retail shoe slut. Better than I feared, but it still reminded me (in under than four hours no less) of all the reasons I was not sad to leave retail behind when I graduated from college. Still it beats making a porno (I am not yet THAT desperate--yet being the key word--my other ridiculous back-up plans (i.e. marry a filthy rich septogenarian; become a madame of a European brothel; work at Disneyland dressed up as a Princess; and find a sugar daddy) would probably come about before that one) and at least I'm making more than I did working at the local independent bookstore sophomore year (minimum wage at the time in Nebraska being a mere $5.15/hour). And money is money. The bills must be paid and my unemployment benefits are very nearly used up. Previously, I've always been saved at the last moment from actually having to return to the world of retail sluttism. But, apparently, I've pissed off some important and powerful omniscient being and said being is bent on ruining my life. I'm also convinced that he or she is attempting to wash the Dallas/Fort Worth metroplex off the map. One of the heaviest bursts of rain occurred, of course, just as I arrived home from work, so not only did I have aching feet and a migraine, but I also had to towel myself dry because I looked like a drowned rat. Is there something terribly wrong with me for wanting to quit this job before I've even finished training?

When did becoming a published novelist turn into my fall back plan?

I found out today that I didn't even make it to round 2 of interviews for my dream job. And they liked me. That's how bad the economy is. I applied for a job for which I'm imminently qualified and they liked me, yet I still can't get it. And it would have been a $4000/year paycut for me. It's probably a $10,000+ paycut for people with more experience than me and that's what it came down to. It's impossible for recent grads like me (and I've had 4 years) to compete with people who've been working for 7 or 10 or 15 years. I've now had to replace my freelance copy editing gig with a retail position that pays less than half. And if I fuck it up and they fire me, I lose all my unemployment benefits. Although unless I qualify for the government's emergency extension or whatever it's called, my benefits will barely last another month. I've been unemployed for nearly 8 months. It was easier getting a job straight out of college than it is now. My mom's idea is that I buckle down and finish my novels. And at this point, I might as well being a starving writer. It's not like I'm making money either way. And I may love shoes, but I don't think I can sell them forever.

Life Delivers Another Suckerpunch to the Gut

I'm starting to wonder if I was a murderer or other equally horrible human being in a previous life, because if there is such a thing as Karma, I'm at a loss as to what horrible thing (or things) I have done to earn myself so much crap. As I said to a friend yesterday, "It feels like life is kicking my ass." Because my life doesn't already suck enough, yesterday I got into an accident on the way to a friend's house. Thank god no one was injured and the insurance company is taking care of the other car (it was, of course, declared my fault). Now my beautiful car is marred, but, of course, I cannot afford even the $500 deductible at the moment and it is driveable, so I will have to wait until I am fully employed again to get it repaired. In the past six months, I have: 1) been laid off and unable to find gainful employment; 2) lost my computer and everything upon it to a harddrive crash, and 3) been involved in a car accident. I am desperately hoping that bad things really do only come in threes. If it's not due to Karma, then some more major deity (I used to say minor deity when the occasional shitty thing happened, but I've decided that apparently I've gone beyond that now) is incredibly pissed off at me. How does one go about appeasing deities anymore? I don't have animals to slaughter or crops to burn. I guess I could leave the cookies in the oven too long, but that doesn't seem like much of a substitute. Besides, if that was the answer, I would think that the quiche I spilled on the bottom of the oven and had to clean off last month would have done the trick. I did make sure that I went out this weekend and did not hole up in my apartment too afraid to leave my apartment, but if something good doesn't happen soon, I'm close to giving up on the idea that life outside my apartment is worth interacting with. Oh, to be a Regency-Era lady. I wouldn't need a job. I wouldn't have to drive a car. I wouldn't be single and 26. I could wear pretty dresses. I could go to fancy balls and dance and flirt with handsome men. I could spend my days reading, cross-stitching, drawing and playing the piano. Somedays I just want the simple simplicity of living out my life as a character of a Jane Austen novel. And I realize I would probably have been an impoverished maid, but, fuck it, this is my fantasy world and that means the men are all rich, handsome and honorable and the women are never poor, fat and alone.

I Promise: No More Video-Intensive Posts

Yes, I got a little video-crazy last weekend. Sorry! They were saying what I felt so well, that it made more sense to post that than repeat them poorly. This week has been slow, boring and depressing. No follow-up interview to last Friday's quick meet-and-greet. No call from the company I've made it to the top three at. No response from my application to the ultimate perfect dream job three weeks ago. All I got was the possibility of having my part-time job dry up, a job offer that I believe to be a total scam (FYI: Companies that offer jobs without requiring interviews and then say they want you to receive money in the form of Certified Checks on behalf of the company and then pass the funds along to them are probably NOT legit. This was not what the job posting specified when I originally applied for it or I would have said, "No way!"), and finally yet another rejection email for a job (this one came less than a minute after the email saying they were looking at my resume and writing samples, apparently they didn't need to look very closely to deem me completely unqualified, which is what the rejection email informed me I was). On top of everything else, I planted flowers on my patio today and tonight it's decided to drop below freezing.

The only good things that happened all week were my banana bread that I baked today, which came out absolutely perfect, and I made it to the end of Part Four of Crime and Punishment, only two more parts to go and I'll have finished it!

Citizen B Responds

My wonderful friend Citizen B sent me this response to my last post. As it was too long for the comments section, I have posted it unaltered below. And thank you, B, for reminding me that life isn't as bad as I feel. Without my friends and family, I would have already lost my mind.

If you had been a soul-less business major, you might have been working for a credit card company, or a major bank/insurance company. Then the crisis would have hit and they may have laid you off all the same. Or if you had kept your job, you may have been thankful for the salary, but loathed going to work each day. Look at Dameon. He makes a good salary, but he hates his job and it works him to death.

My uncle has an engineering degree, which is very practical and usually easy to get a job with. He's in his 50s and was laid off again. He was a cook to put himself through college. He's now looking for a cook job again because no one is hiring in his field.

Think of it this way--at least you enjoyed your time in college. As my mother always said (and this she learned from a business class), there is no such thing as a wrong decision. If it had a definite right or wrong answer, it wouldn't be a decision. You can only do the best you can with the information you have at the time.

Also, far less useful degrees you could have had:

Religious Studies
Philosophy
Art History
Psychology (without a masters, it's useless)
Film Studies
Recreational Studies (I know people who majored in it)
Welsh Language (it's a real major)
Dance
Vocal performance
Theater performance
Archeology (again- no masters, no good)
Visual Art, specifically sculpture
American Studies (it's real)
Women's Studies
Quilt Studies
Comparative Sociology

'Cause I Had a Bad Day

I'm starting to feel like I'm riding a bipolar rollercoaster. I'll be doing just fine for a few days and then--BAM!--the suckiness of life hits me again and I'm back down in the dumps and I don't want to even get out of bed. Then I figure out a solution for the immediate issue and things are okay again and I can function. I got so used to my life being relatively even keeled, stable, reliable and drama-free that this past year, especially the last six months, is a shock to my system. It wasn't perfect, but I was floating along just fine. Today I feel like I dropped down the steepest hill on the ride, got taken through an upside down loop-de-loop (like the Orient Express at Worlds of Fun that I first rode at age 4 with my dad) and then suddenly the car flew off the tracks and plummeted towards the ground at lightning speed with no way to steer or brake. The hill was when everything I did earlier today went wrong (my hair and outfit for the oscars costume party) and my mom told me that I would probably end up having to pay $1100+ in taxes. The loop-de-loop was going to the party and hanging out with friends, laughing and trying to forget about my impending debt. The crash came on the way home when I found myself bawling in the car as I drove home. Now I feel like my brains are scrambled on the pavement and I'm trying to crawl out of the pile of rubble and shit that my life has become. If I could go back in time, I'd re-do college and this time I'm major in some soul-sucking business college major. I had the skills, the talent and the brains to do it. I just didn't want to. But I would. Then I could trade my soul to the devil in exchange for a 100k+/year job in corporate america and I would have a house and a fancy car and I wouldn't have to borrow money from my parents ever again. But no, I had to be an idealistic idiot and insist on majoring in English so that I could be a writer. I didn't realize then that while all companies NEED people who can write, nobody actually values them enough to bother to hire them.

Why My Job Amuses Me

Today I came across my favorite ridiculous phrase to be included in a phone sales guide since "to your heart's desire, or 2 GB," (actually, I'm insulted that they think my heart's desire could be satisfied by such measly storage). Today I learned that: "You can even choose from emoticons and preset messages to make texting more fun." Now, I'll give you emoticons. I love smileys and :-P as much as the next girl, but when was the last time you said to yourself, "Texting would be so much more fun if I had preset messages to choose from instead of typing my own!"?

If This Is "God's Plan" For Me, I'd Like To Know Where He Keeps His Complaint Box.

I feel like I'm treading water in the middle of the ocean and off in the distance I can see a tidal wave breaking over the top of the water. As it approaches, it gathers speed and height. It isn't here yet, but there's no way for me to escape the pull from below the surface as the wave sucks the water from beneath me and prepares to crash down over my head.

Since I was laid off the first week of September, I have applied for a minimum of 4 jobs a week, often more. This means that in this time I have applied for anywhere between 85 and 120 jobs. All of which I was at least minimally qualified for. I'm on the lists at no fewer than 5 staffing agencies. All this and I have had no more than 3 interviews in that time (not including the ones at the staffing agencies themselves which weren't for specific jobs). One didn't let me know either way; one resulted in my current part-time gig; and the last is the one I won't hear about until the end of next week.

Back in September, I was sure I'd have a job by February. I'd been looking since May, after all and already had 3 interviews and almost gotten one job. I wasn't completely unprepared for what happened (the agency hadn't been keeping us busy for at least 4 months), though I'd expected to last at least another month if not more.

Now, I'm reminded every time I request a payment from TWC that my unemployment is running low and I'm approaching the time when college grads will start competing with me because, sadly, I'm still close enough in experience that what I do, a lot of them can manage but without expecting to be paid over $25k/year.

In three months, I will have been looking for a new job for a year. That's never happened to me before. Even when I graduated from college with a useless English degree, few skills, no experience and no idea what I wanted to do (other than avoid teaching like the plague), I found a job in less than three months. When I got laid off last February (yes, I got laid off twice in one year), I was able to find an new job before my three months of warning (that the company had been sold and operations here in Dallas would cease at the end of February) were up.

Unfortunately, I didn't listen to my friends who cautioned me about entering the advertising world. It seemed like the best career path last year when all these senior editor positions were posted online offering salaries over $70k/year. I didn't realize that the agency I was joining would be like going back to Junior High School where Drama is Queen and everybody cared more about office politics than putting together a quality product. Two months in and I knew that I'd made a huge mistake. Unfortunately, this was about a month after the job market started to tank.

Another month and I will be at my wit's end. I don't know what to do. I've tried all sorts of a different resume and cover letter combinations. I have a good portfolio. At least I think it's good, especially considering I've only been in the real world of work for 3 years. 3 years seems to be the horrible limbo period of experience. The entry level jobs want HS degrees or pay less than my unemployment benefits. Plus, they won't consider me because I'm "Over Qualified." The mid-level jobs all seem to want a minimum of 5 years experience. Which I can't get because I had the misfortune to have my first company sold out from under me and my second company was like working in hell, though I wouldn't have left without guaranteed employment if they hadn't made the decision for me when work fell off (marketing budgets are the first things to be cut when the economy tanks).

And those 6 months of advertising seem to have erased the 2 and a half years of publishing experience and now everyone wants me to keep proofing fucking coupons. What I learned in those 6 months is that I cannot spend the rest of my life proofing coupons or I will kill myself. I did not go to college for four years so that I could make sure that Large 1-Topping Pizza and Flat Screen TV are spelled consistently and correctly. I used to put out a product of which I could be proud. You know what happened to the marketing pieces I spent hours proofing? They get stuffed into people's mailboxes and then tossed into the trash. That is what I do with the crap they fill my mailbox up with (coupons for fast food only tempt me to go out, which I cannot afford even with the coupon right now).

I can't seem to get any publishing or writing gigs because my previous job didn't involve Indesign or online publishing. I have looked at Indesign though. And for the purposes of technical writing, it requires me to do the same things I did when typesetting the apartment newsletters in Publisher. The buttons may be in different places, but that's easy to learn. No one will give me a chance though. No one will let me try anything new. I like challenge. I am willing to work my ass off. I have an outstanding work ethic (I didn't realize this until I was told by multiple bosses). I am a dedicated employee. I like working. I need to work. I am going to go crazy if I have to continue this freelance thing for much longer. I want to put in 40 hours (or more) a week and earn a full paycheck. I want to know that I will be able to pay my bills and that going out for drinks one night during the week won't break the bank. What I absolutely do not want to do is have to ask my parents for help. I know they'll give it. They've offered to loan me money. They bought my new laptop when the old one died unexpectedly (and I fully intend to pay them back as soon as possible).

Ever since I got a job after college, I have been completely self-sufficient. I have managed to pay rent on a decent apartment in a relatively good neighborhood. I have managed to pay for a car that I like. I have managed to pay for real furniture to replace the futon and bean bag chair from my college dorm. I have managed to pay for everything I needed without a husband, without my parents. I like knowing that I can provide for myself.

No matter what anyone says, to me, having to ask my parents for help at this point is equivalent to failing. I went out in the world and I tried, but I failed and now I'm back at square one. My savings are virtually gone. My IRA is over half gone. My job is gone. And apparently my experiences up to this point count for nothing. Because no matter what I do, everybody just keeps passing over me in favor of someone else. I'm stuck in a catch-22 whirlpool of too much and too little experience at the exact same time.

My friend keeps telling me that everything will work out exactly as it's meant to, according to God's plan. And I appreciate her telling me that; some days it helps. But I have always had trouble accepting the idea of God having a "plan" for me. I've never really believed in that kind of God because I don't understand it. I've always felt like God is more of voyeur of my life than an interactive partner. And right now, I want to know why anyone--no matter their omnipotence--would wish all of this on me--or anyone else for that matter. I know I'm not the only one suffering (and not suffering the worst) but I had no part in any of the financial dealings that caused this all to happen, so I don't see how it's fair that I'm suffering from the effects. Which I know is a stupid complaint, but I'm beyond caring at this point. I used to be fond of the French saying, "C'est la vie," (literally "That's life" but I've always favored a looser translation of "Such is life.") but I just can't feel that detached from what is happening anymore. I'm used to being able to fix any problems if I just work hard enough at them, but the rejection is beginning to overwhelm me. If my friend is right and God does have a plan for me, I just want to know why he seems to feel I need to be put through this much stress and depression right now. How much can one person be expected to take before giving up and letting the current pull them under? (And no one better bring up Job.)

The Good and the Hopeful

The good news: I've walked 12+ miles in the last week and discovered that the P.O. is only 1 mile away; the Bank/Grocery Store is only 1.5 miles; and there are two parks pretty and relaxing parks with nice trails in between.

The even better news: I've managed to plan out the entirety of my romance novel over the course of 20 chapters. Which means all I have to do now is actually write it (I have 4.5 chapters done).

The hopeful news: The company I interviewed at over two weeks ago called today and they're going to make their decision next week. I thought they'd just decided I was absolutely horrible and not worth calling back. Please, God, if you're there and listening, I really, really need this job.

And now for something completely different: It's such a nice change to have a President who I can stand to listen to for an hour without wanting to shout "You're nothing but a Talking Monkey Puppet" and throw things at the TV. That said, Clinton may have been charismatic, but Obama comes off as very intelligent and well-studied, which really inspires confidence. At least in me. My grandad is probably cursing him for his "socialist agenda" but I was shocked to find out that almost 4 million people had lost their jobs nationwide. I hadn't heard the number recently. A couple of months ago I hit a wall and stopped wanting to know who else was unemployed and competing with me for the very few jobs available.

Why Won't They Let Me Apply Now?

The annoying thing about applying for grad school for English is that you have to really plan ahead for it. None of the good programs let you apply less than 8 months out. And assembling everything you need to apply takes so long, that you really have to start a year out. So starting now, the earliest I could possibly go to grad school would be 2010. Which doesn't really help me with the whole "I need something to do now" thing. A year ago (when I would have needed to start putting things together in order to apply for admission in 2009) I had a job and I thought I was doing what I wanted to be doing. Now, I want to go back to school, but I'm going to have to find a way to support myself for a year and half before I can actually act on that. And apparently the good colleges all want recommendations from professors, which are difficult to get when you haven't been in school for almost 4 years. Will any of my professors even remember me? This is one of the things that has me procrastinating on this. I shy away from the idea of having to email people I haven't spoken to for 4 years to ask for help. What if they all say no? I'm trying not to let myself get overwhelmed. So I'm starting with baby steps. First, I take the GRE. Get that out of the way and the scores are good for 5 years. Then I put together the writing samples. Then I can work out how to contact people, starting with the graduate advisors at the colleges I'm interested in attending.

I'd Happily Settle for a Full-Time Job Offer

His lifestyle requires $3,700/day to support. Whereas support of my lifestyle would only require an $84-$98/day donation (just to put it all into perspective). My friend Citizen B was telling me yesterday about some BagLady blog where this lady who really isn't that bad off complains about having to go without her daily Starbucks and fancy manicures. Pardon me if I can't feel bad for rich people having to go without what I couldn't afford when I was fully employed. And I know I'm luckier than some people because I'm not losing my home or being plunged into a mountain of debt (though another couple of months of unemployment and that may not be the case).

Quotables from Wild Women

I do so love my "Wild Words from Wild Women" daily calendar.

"Would it upset men if they found out we weren't different?" - Rita Mae Brown (A very cool author. I actually met her once when I was in college.)

"I think racism is a terrible thing. We should all learn to hate each other on an individual basis." - Cathy Ladman

"Sex is still the leading cause of pregnancy." - Frederica Mathewes-Green

"My husband says he can read me like an open book. The only problem is he doesn't know what page I'm on." - Sydney Newman Dotson

"In real life, women are always trying to mix something up with sex--religion, or babies, or hard cash; it is only men who long for sex separated out without rings or strings." - Katherine Whitehorn

The last one reminds me of Carrie Bradshaw in Sex and the City. I'm anxiously waiting for my friend to return my dvd set to me so that I can get my fix again. There's nothing that cures a bad day like Breakfast at Tiffany's or an episode of Sex and the City. Today I started fretting about the future (and the uncertainty of my employment and financial status) which always gives me a case of the mean reds. I watched the new episode of How I Met Your Mother and it was all about resumes and finding a job. It made me wish my life was a sitcom. Then all my problems would be solved in 30 minutes and I'd have a lot more to laugh about. At the very least, it'd be totally awesome if Barney (Neil Patrick Harris' character) made me a video resume and got me as cool a job as he got Robin.

I Want Some Tarp, Too!

While I understand the principles behind saving the mortgage and auto industries, I also feel a bit like it's telling them that it's okay that they used shady practices and wasted all their own money. It's not really fair that they get a second chance with our tax money when they haven't really shown that they're going to do any different this time around. Yes, they've they'll do things different, but they've been saying lots of things for a long time. I have absolutely no sympathy for the mortgage companies that have gone under. They knew that what they were doing wasn't the right way to handle loans but it made them money, so they didn't care. I feel even less sympathy for the car companies. They knew this was coming. They'd have to blind not to. But they kept doing what they were doing and now it's biting them in the ass. It'd be bad for them to go out of business, but if we save them from the consequences of their actions now, what's to keep them from coming back to us again the next time they screw up? And then there's the selfish part of me that goes, hey I did a good job of managing my money and doing my job and then out of the blue I'm laid off because the economy is tanking, because these guys decided to mess around with all that stuff, and the government isn't helping me get out of it and it wasn't even my own doing. It's just one more example of how life differs from what my mom taught me growing up. When I misbehaved, I had to face the consequences (generally groundings).

Make sure you read the fine print!