Thursday, September 30, 2004

Good news?

I made the requisite call to the Man at The Job this morning. Got his voicemail, thank the good Lord above, and left a brief message.

"Hi, it's Pink Stiletto calling. I just wanted to make sure you got the package I dropped off yesterday. If you have any questions, you can call me at ###-####. I know you're not dealing with the job for a little while yet, but I hope to hear from you when you do. Thanks!"

And, MUCH to my cynically mind's great surprise, he called back this afternoon!

Joy!

It was a very short conversation. He wanted to confirm that, yes, he got it and when they get to dealing with the job after this "busy season" is over in November/December, he'll be sure to give it a good look.

And that? Is all that I ask.
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Out of my hands and a bizarre meeting

It's done. My part of it, anyway. I handed in my portfolio package for The Job yesterday. My heart was pounding in my ears as I gave up any remaining control I had over my destiny in this situation.

I thank you all for your concern about how much mental energy I've put into this situation. The thing is, put this much focus and mental energy into a lot of things -- rightly or wrongly, that's just how I am. I'm the queen of "Way Too Much".

I'll be honest with you: I'm not expecting to hear anything from them. I'm quite serious when I tell you that I'm pretty sure it's over. Maybe that's my inner-cynic taking over, I don't know. It's bizarre, I admit... spending so much time worrying, obsessing, freaking out... then admitting that I don't have a lot of hope for it anyway? I know it's a contradiction but that's me: L'il Miss Contradiction. I think it's really just that I've had the experience so many times in my life, where I expect to hear from someone about something, then I never do... that it's just become the norm, as far as what I expect will happen.

I do have one more thing to do, that being the requisite, "Just calling to make sure you got my package" phonecall... which gives me hives to even think about. It's just as bad as the pre-submission phonecall. Maybe worse, because there is more potential for rejection when they've had a chance to look over your stuff. I think my package was killer, but they might think a pre-school class could have done better. Hard to say. These things are subjective.

So now I wait. Make that phonecall, and wait. (Oh LORD, I don't have the energy to do this.)

And, just trust in God that this will go as He has planned and however that may be will be the right way.
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Vanilla Latte with a side of huge surprise

"Holy shit."

Words don't often spring out of my mouth without going through the brain filter first, but this was a special case. Those words sprung before I had a chance to even process what I was seeing. Rather, who I was seeing.

I stopped at Starbucks on the way home from a meeting, way across town from my home. I should have known when I made the last minute decision not to stop, followed by an even-more-last-minute decision to stop anyway, that it wasn't going to be my average experience at Starby's. It always happens that way.

They saw me first.

I heard my name and turned around, so fully not expecting to see these two that, after my quick outburst, I was literally rendered speechless.

These two had been my two closest girlfriends. If two years ago I had gotten engaged, they would have been my two bridesmatrons. Me, C. & M. We shopped, we took road trips, we celebrated New Years with crazy outdoor dinners in -30 degree weather, we dieted and broke diets... all together.

Unfortunately, I had given two less-than-deserving people the highest honor a friend can bestow: I trusted them. Trusted that they were the dedicated, caring friends I believed them to be. The truth came out in late March 2003 when I went to dinner with them as part of a large group... and C.'s husband innocently mentioned that he was going to miss his wife when she went on "the trip" next week.

The trip, you see, was a trip that we-three had planned together. A second-annual road-trip across the country to B.C. to visit M.'s family in the Okanogan Valley.

But, plans for the trip had fizzled out a couple of months earlier when the interest level wained. Or, so I was told.

The truth was, M. had un-invited me and invited her sister & brother-in-law instead but was too chicken to tell me the truth so she lied and tried to hide it. I was never to know about it, but C.'s husband wasn't warned that he wasn't supposed to mention it around me. Oops.

I sat through the rest of dinner with a plastic smile on my face, and even tried to tell myself that it wasn't a big deal. That is, until my guy (who was just two-weeks new at the time) said, "You're really hurt by this, aren't you..." At which point I had to acknowledge that I had probably never been hurt by friends like this in my life.

C. was very apologetic but realistically, she was just along for the ride. She should have told me what was going on but she wasn't the one who masterminded the Big Lie in the first place. It was M., someone who had told many, many, many small lies to me over the course of our friendship... but I had always let it slide because I knew she had a tendency to avoid conflict and confrontation, and I accepted that she'd rather tell a white-lie than face a situation. Whatever. It had never been anything major. I suppose I should have realized that it would morph into something bigger one day. My bad.

They tried to backtrack and invite me, but it was too little, way too late. I couldn't have gotten the time off work at that late hour anyway, never mind the fact that I certainly did not want to go where I clearly wasn't wanted in the first place.

And so, I stopped talking to them. They didn't really make an effort to get in touch with me, embarassed by their actions I can only guess. Actually, I did call C. once, but she didn't call back and I wasn't willing to make the effort anymore. Who would? Interestingly, I actually felt a weight lifted off my shoulders not having to worry about them. There's obviously a lot to say about how the friendships quite obviously weren't what I believed them to be, but that's another post.

Fast forward about a year to this past February, when another good friend (an actual good friend with good intentions), ran into M. at the mall. M. said that the reason she hadn't talked to ME was because I had apparently "gotten weird". I'm still not sure what that means, though I do know that I went to M.'s father-in-law's funeral to support her, just a couple of months after the trip fiasco. The gesture went completely unappreciated. C., as it happens, didn't go to the funeral at all. Yet, *I* am weird because I was so hurt by their actions and didn't want to put up with the bullshit anymore? Sure.

So, when my friend told me what M. had said, that was my final straw with her. I wrote her an actual letter (on paper, with a pen, and I mailed it), explaining that the reason for removing her from my life was because she had treated me so shabbily over the years, and that I hoped she had more respect for the rest of the people in her life because nobody should be treated by a friend like she treated me. I wrote to C. also, just saying that I was sad that she had appeared to take M.'s side but I wasn't willing to fight for the friendship.

And that was that.

Until Tuesday night, when I walked into Starbucks and there they sat. I was paralyzed with indecision. What do you say to two people you've removed from your life in such dramatic fashion? Because, really, it's not often that someone confronts you the way I did with them.

I was friendly, polite, and somehow ended up sitting with them for about half an hour. I didn't allow a moment of silence, lest it be an opening to mention the letters. You want to talk about a great big pink elephant sitting on the table. Oy. I just wasn't in the mood to defend myself.

Long story short, C. said she was really glad to see me and asked if she could have my new numbers so she could call me. I gave a card to both of them out of politeness, though I really don't want to hear from M. I would like to hear from C., though I don't actually expect her to call. She's just like that. Good intentions, not so good with the follow-through.

And so it stands. The last two people I could have expected to run into in the very last place in the world I might have thought I'd see them. It just goes to show, you really never do know what's around the next corner.
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Viva la Haloscan

I'm ditching the Blogger comments because they're annoying. Also because I can't email you back if I feel the need, without going through quite a little production.

SO, the old comments you've left are gone... the new comments are there, please use them often.
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Monday, September 27, 2004

I wish I could say...

In response to ej's comment... I feel sort of bad that I can't explain exactly what The Job is.

The thing is, I re-started a new blog in order to be able to write about whatever I needed to write about. Most especially my job situation.

What I can say is this:

The Job is with a very specialized organization. It is the only one of its kind in my city. Other cities have them, but the very fact that this one exists in my city (and has a long history here) is part of what makes it so sought-after. There are other sort of similar organizations but none as established and respected as this one.

The thing about this particular organization is that I have been a longtime supporter of its work. I'm passionate about what they do over there. Their mandate has changed many times over the years, something that had them on the brink of financial collapse a few short years ago (which would have been a tragic situation), but they brought in a new Top Dog to right the ship. And he did. In a big way.

I'm sorry I can't say more. My readership has grown pretty small, and to reward the few of you who have stuck with me through the endlessss whining, I would love to tell you.

I can't. Not yet.

But if I get The Job?

I promise, I'll give you all enough hints to make it worthwhile. Deal?

Deal.
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Sick of myself.

I'm so sick of myself, in fact, that I'm going to use a different font today to break things up.

I'm really tired of my life lately. What I mean is, I'm sick of waking up every morning to the same series of thoughts: I'm not happy... will I get a chance at The Job?... why haven't I heard back from my contact at The Job?... am I going to feel like this forever?

Ugh. Really. I'm really sick of it.

I've been here before, but it's always been post-breakup. Post-breakup, I know how to heal. I've done it enough times now.

It always goes something like this...

You lose something you (think you) desperately want to keep. You go through the stages of loss: denial, anger, sadness, acceptance. You fall asleep, often with a salty-wet face and puffy eyes... then when you wake up, you have those couple of moments of "ahhh" before the stark reality of your situation hits you. Yep, still lonely and hurting and bitter. Yep, still alone.

But, eventually after a breakup, you wake up one day and say, "Hey, I feel really happy today. You know what? I think I really like my life right now." And while you realize that you're doing okay on your own, you maintain that hope that you'll meet someone else, who will be even better than the last one. Which, inevitably, you do.

I think it's the hope that keeps you going. Kept me going, anyway. Hope is a remarkable thing. Pretty powerful.

But how do I heal from a situation where there is no "hope" on the other side?

I mean... if I don't get The Job, a job that I have already determined is my 100% perfect dream job... what am I to hope for after that? When you can't have the #1 thing on your list, hoping for #2 is pretty disappointing.

I really need to get The Job.

Note: I mentioned the question above, about why I hadn't heard from my contact at The Job. After I hadn't heard from him, naturally, I started questioning myself and whether I had said something bad or wrong or whatever. I started to wonder if my contact never really liked me at all, and was laughing at the fact that I want The Job. Etc. etc. Which is why, when I woke up on Sunday to find out that something really big had gone down at The Company... even though it was a bit of a bad thing, I was absolutely gleeful... because at least it meant there had been a REASON why he hadn't gotten in touch. PHEW.
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Friday, September 24, 2004

Nothing.

I'm hungry.

I want a coffee.

And peanut M&M's.

And, I want to go home.
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Thursday, September 23, 2004

WHY?????

WHY don't people return phonecalls when they say they will? Why don't people return emails that have a question that you're clearly waiting to have answered?

For the love of Pete, people, WHAT HAPPENED TO COMMON COURTESY?

Yeah, I thought so.

Grr.

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Wednesday, September 22, 2004

A post NOT about The Job

Seriously, it is.

It's about Britney and Kevin now being married.

You see, when I was that age, I dated a boy who looked just like Kevin Federline. It was during that phase of my life (every girl's life?) when I was attracted to all of the dark, brooding, mysterious boys.

(What I didn't know was, the dark, brooding and mysterious stuff was ACTUALLY sleazy, too dumb to string together full sentences, and usually stoned.)

But, after a few months of our highest quality dates being drive-thru dinners at McDonalds (that I paid for), warm beer (that I paid for but he was too lazy to put in the fridge), and rented movies (that I paid for)... I came to my senses.

Oh, also the discovery that he was high 100% of the time when he wasn't with me, and at least 75% of the time when he was.

L'il Brit is going to come to HER senses too, when she gets tired of this charming white-trash phase. Soon enough, she's going to want to spend her copious amounts of money on nice clothes and expensive hairdos.

But, by then, she will be that twice-divorced girl who was on the Mickey Mouse Club, who is too old for the teeny-boppers and too grody for the rest of us to care about... and too trashy for even Madonna.

Poor Brit. Poor poor Brit.

(snicker snicker)
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The race is on...

Met with The Friend about The Job.

I may be the perfect candidate. I have everything they're looking for and more. I also have one very good contact with the organization (not The Friend, this is another person) -- someone in a very high-ranking position. While this person isn't directly involved in the hiring decision, he has a lot of pull around this place and *should* be a huge ally for me.

The challenge now is twofold:

1) Getting the attention of The Friend's Boss, a man who I have dealt with numerous times in the past but who doesn't remember my name to save his life, will be key. He's a bit of an "old boy" so to speak, and he may have trouble taking me seriously, being that I'm a young woman. Let's hope he's not as near-sighted as I believe him to be.

2) Keeping The Friend's Boss' attention in the next two months. I spoke to him on the phone this morning, asking if I could meet with him, and he turned me down saying he's just too busy right now (which I can understand -- this is the absolute busiest time of year at their org., hands down). But he said I'm welcome to send him something, it's just that he won't be dealing with it for several weeks (end of November at the worst, beginning of November at best). I can NOT let him forget about me. Which is why the timing of the submission of my resume & portfolio is key.

I have to say, making that call to Friend's boss was VERY hard for me to do. My legs are still jelly. I HATE making that call. It's such a desperate feeling, I always feel like such a bother. Ugh. This guy is doubly hard to deal with, he's a little pompus and irritating.

So, folks. I need prayers. I need divine intervention. I need whatever grace God is willing to bestow upon me, because I now have a whole heck of a lot of HOPE... but that hope may just be the death of me.

It's September 22nd. Let's set December 1st as the day they're going to get rolling on this thing.

70 days and counting.

God? My fate is in Your hands. Yes, I know it always is but I'm relinquishing control here. So, let's go.
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Tuesday, September 21, 2004

Why do I feel so calm?

A bizarre calm has set in. It's frightening me. I haven't felt calm about anything in more than a month -- why now? I have been praying for calm, sure, but these things don't usually come so easily.

Anyway.

Barring sudden disaster, dinner is on with The Friend with The Job tonight.

I should come out of this dinner knowing exactly what's happening with The Job. It is what I have wanted for weeks but I'm actually struggling with the idea of things moving smoothly over the next little while. It's funny how quickly a person gets used to stress and those restless feelings that go along with waiting for something.

Of course, I have said "X should happen today..." many, MANY times, and X didn't happen that day (or ever), so I'm not exactly counting on anything.

Just very strongly hoping.

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Monday, September 20, 2004

It couldn't possibly be easy, could it?

If I didn't already know how unhappy I am in my current job, I think this morning's events illustrate it perfectly.

On Friday, my boss asked me to come in at 8:00am, instead of my usual 8:30am. We had a press conference to deal with, and it looked like there might be some problems getting everything set up properly, so she wanted me in early. Fine, no problem. I hate my job but I love my boss, so I'll do whatever she needs.

So, I set the alarm on my cell phone to remind myself on Sunday night to set my alarm 45 minutes earlier.

I set both alarm clocks I have, to make sure that if I missed the first one, I'd hear the second.

Leave at 7:30am, get to work at 8:00am. No problem.

Wrong.

I woke up at... wait for it...

8:10am.

WOKE UP at 8:10am.

Ooohhh no. I was in my car by 8:17am, which means I skipped the morning shower, breakfast, and the obligatory morning-emptying-of-the-bladder. Thankfully, I managed to brush my teeth, wash my face, and put on deoderant before throwing on some clothes and RUNNING out the door.

Thankfully, EVER SO THANKFULLY, my boss is a gem and she was totally fine with it. She was a few minutes late herself (though, not 45 minutes late.)

Still. This is NOT good. Even my subconscious knows how unhappy I am; it prevented me from having to spend an extra half-hour at work.

Oy.

This can't -- and won't -- happen again.
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Sunday, September 19, 2004

Job, Job, and more Job.

That would be job, as in work. Not Job from the Bible. Although somewhat of a good story to keep in mind, I would say.

Provided he doesn't cancel at the last minute, my friend who is leaving The Job is supposed to meet me for dinner on Tuesday night. We're supposed to talk strategy.

The problem is that this friend is well known to be a canceller. He's very highly forgetful and has a tendency to book plans then make other, more pressing plans, and has to cancel the first plans.

Not ideal.

I will send him a note to remind him, and then make the call on Tuesday to confirm.

Let's pray this all goes as planned -- if it does, I will finally have some firm answers as to where this job sits, whether my name has been passed on, and what my possible chances are.

THEN I can really get working on my strategy.

It's funny, I was watching The Apprentice the other night and realized something. I look at the players on that show and see people who see something they want, and they make it happen.


That is what I need to do here. I see something I want, and I need to just go ahead and make it happen. I actually feel quite blessed that things have been put off, because I would not have been prepared if things had come down a couple of weeks ago like I originally thought they would.

I would LOVE to think that I'm watching God work right now, so that I can have this job. But I can't assume that at this point. I just have to keep mentally preparing and doing everything I can, working every contact I have, to get as close as I can.

If God wants it to happen, then it will -- but NOT if I sit by and wait.
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Friday, September 17, 2004

So, what now?

First: thank you, blog friends, for your encouragement via my comments. As I've stated in the past, I tend not to reply to comments a lot of the time -- I wasn't sure of the etiquette before, but now with the Blogger comments, it's a slight pain in the ass.

Anyway, now, the post:

My life is likely going to be consumed with job-related posts in the next several weeks. That's because that's about the only thing going on in my life.

The latest news on that front is that my current job, which I hate anyway, ends in November. Unfortunately, my boss can't just renew my contract; she found out yesterday that she is required to post the job externally. No choice. So, if someone with 15 minutes more experience than me comes along and applies for it... she may be forced to give it to that person.

Beautiful irony. May lose the job. Need the job. Hate the job, but still need the job. May lose it anyway. Lovely.

SO. The Job becomes important for two reasons: not only do I need to find a job that I LOVE, but I also need to find a secure job period.

Oy.

Eventually I'll start posting about something other than this. When it's resolved. Which could be a while. A long while.
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Wednesday, September 15, 2004

Submission to my Higher Power

I was going to try to type out a prayer to God.

I can't. It won't come.

I mean, it came into my brain, but not to my fingers. I can close my eyes and pray and talk to God. As soon as I try to do it with my fingertips on the keyboard? Blank slate.

One thing I can do is thank God for Sharon and Rob today, who talked me through a very hard afternoon. I make things worse on myself than they need to be (very often... something that Rob knows well, but Sharon probably doesn't), jumping to conclusions and doing everything but patiently waiting until I have all the facts.

I can also apologize to God for the above-mentioned conclusion jumping, and for not immediately seeing His movement today's events. The fact is, the opportunity is still alive here... at around 11am today, I was quite sure it was dead, but that's not the case. It COULD be the case, but it's not. And while I don't know what that means, and I need to try NOT to read too much into it... at least there's hope.

Unfortunately, it's the hope that's been killing me... and that's why I'm submitting my formal request to God right here and now:

If this is NOT part of Your plan for me, could we please get that out in the open immediately? And if this COULD be part of Your plan for me, please guide me to do whatever it is You need me to do so this happens. All I know is that I want this job more than I've wanted anything in a very, very, very long time. If it's not meant to be, please help me deal with that and move towards something that will fulfill me even more.

I'm at Your mercy, God. It's all Yours. Take it away. I can't do this alone. Without You, I can't do it at all.


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Tuesday, September 14, 2004

Changing perceptions

I don't think people see me as I want to be seen. As I see myself.

I was getting off the elevator today with our admin. assistant, and she was saying that the woman who got off just before her, "Is the sweetest person you'll ever meet..."

And I realized, I doubt anyone has ever said I'm the "anything" you'll ever meet. Nicest, sweetest, friendliest, most positive... whatever. I don't think people are generally saying bad things, but maybe not great things.

I want to be seen as nice, fun, friendly... not just because I want to be SEEN that way, but because I want to BE that way.

I do think people think I'm fairly nice. But I bitch and complain about a lot of things. Maybe not often, but often enough that I think I should scale it back.

I don't want anyone to have a bad thing to say about me, at least not about the thing that I can control. If you don't like my general personality or the way I express myself? Can't do anything about that. But I can change the rest.

I want a new start -- this has been made PAINFULLY clear (sorry about that). A new start in the form of a new job, but also a new start in the way the world sees me.

Public gossiping and complaining... done. Nice, even tempered, less outspoken... underway.

And no more bitching.

Except here. I'm not naming names anyway, so you'll all just stop reading if you get annoyed or stop liking me.
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Monday, September 13, 2004

Blindsided

So, I stopped into my old workplace today to say hi to my former co-workers. I miss a lot of them dearly.

But I got a harsh, strong reminder of why I don't miss my old job or that workplace.

I walked in to a warm reception from a bunch of different people. Lots of hugs, exchanges of new email addresses, promises to get together for drinks. I started to get a whee bit nostalgic.

Then I bumped into Grizella.

All warm and fuzzy feelings went out the window.

I said hello, thinking I would make nice with her (as is always the best practice with this woman), when she blind-sided me. She laid into me with the ferocity of a rabid dog, accusing me of spreading some viscious rumors about her to some of our colleagues across the country. She made the accusations loudly, right in the middle of the room. Thankfully, she's often off on one tangent or another, so nobody much listens when she's going off on someone.

The rumors have to do with an alleged extra-marital affair between her and a high-ranking colleague in another part of the country.

Apparently I started the rumor before I quit in January, and she has it on "VERY GOOD AUTHORITY." Actually, she says she has three sources who confirm the story.

I'm not in the habit of trying to ruin people's careers by spreading rumours. Yes, I have been involved in a gossip-session or two in my time -- it's the sad nature of the business I used to be in, and I got just as caught up in it as the rest of them. I admit it. It's not nice, but I admit it. And, I realized a long time ago that it's best to step back from all similar situations, so I now avoid them like the plague.

And I know for a fact that this particular rumor was widely circulating around the company long before I heard anything about it. As it happens, another colleague came to ME about a year ago, asking me what he should do about his knowledge of this information. I told him he should warn her, but he chose to leave it alone.

In any case, I'm having a very hard time dealing with these accusations. She's a violent, viscious person and I fear for the revenge she may try to exact. This is not a person who you want to piss off. Exactly the opposite, actually. Keep her as happy as possible.

I will say this. If I didn't know it before, I know it now: when people are speaking badly about other people, walk away. Immediately. Don't engage in the conversation, don't speculate or joke or entertain the story. Just walk away.

Because you NEVER know when something is going to come back to bite you in the ass. Even things that you never actually said.
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Why do I set myself up?

I went into the weekend believing that it was all over-with; since I hadn't heard anything, there wouldn't be anything to hear.

Then I got another email, and latched all of my hopes on to that. Maybe there's still hope!

Uh, no.

When am I going to realize that it's over -- it never really started, frankly, and I'm giving myself delusions about something that isn't remotely realistic?


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Sunday, September 12, 2004

Can you stand one more?

If you can possibly stand ONE MORE POST about "The Job", then you're SO in luck right here because, guess what: here's one more post about "The Job."

Though, as it happens, this should be the second last post you ever read on this topic.

Why?

The friend who holds The Job at the moment, wrote me a note to tell me the following (copied DIRECTLY from his email -- this is as real as it gets, people):

"I have received the offer and I am reviewing it. I will likely decide byMonday. The decision is still killing me."

Of course, the fact that he says "likely" means that this will be dragged out further and further and further, thus necessitating many more rants about why I want this job SO BADLY and how I just want a shot at it, and just hope that God has it in His plan SOMEWHERE that I can have this job because DAMMIT I just want to have passion for my work again... and blah blah blah.

But, I promise, there will be no more posts about The Job until there is a final decision either way. (You know, unless they happen to call me for an interview, in which case there will be a series of posts containing various forms of freaking out by me.)

In the meantime, I will apologize to those of you who read me regularily for lack of any variety in my posts.

I also apologize to those of you who have blogs that I read regularily. I haven't really been reading as much lately, and I haven't been commenting when I do. My motivation level is as low as its been... maybe ever, really, so it takes about as much effort as I have in my body to get anything done during the day, nevermind blogging.

My apologies. I'm really trying. It's just tough when I feel so useless.

And so, hopefully for the last time... let's hope there's some definitive news on The Job this week. And, if not that job, than SOMETHING. Please, something.



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Tuesday, September 07, 2004

Put your praying shoes on, people...

"I'll have a decision about the job in a few days and will, of course, let you know ASAP."

Could I finally know if I have a shot at The Job?

I would LOVE to believe it. I truly would. But I know the experience my friend has had with the Head Office so far, and as such, my tendency is to believe that he still won't hear anything by the end of the week.

The Job would be a blessing for me for a myrriad of reasons. Eight months ago, I abandoned the only career I ever wanted because it turned out not to be everything I had dreamed it would be. There is a big hole there now, where my passion and dreams used to live.

I've imagined many jobs, many opportunities I might make for myself, but The Job is the only one that fills me with hope that I could have passion for my work again.

I'm not saying I will never have that, ever again -- I'm not that dramatic. I'm sure there's something else out there that could make me happy. I just don't have a clue what it might be, and it has been very hard for me to float around lately with no purpose.

So. If I may request a little prayer from those of you who Believe, and maybe even one from some of you who don't... I just want the chance to interview for The Job. At least then I can sleep at night knowing that I had a chance and gave it my very best shot. If that's not good enough, then The Job wasn't for me anyway.

Shameless prayer alert:
(But, God, PLEASE let it be for me? Please!)
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Friday, September 03, 2004

Friday Funny... but only one.

When I ditched the old blog and got myself a new set-up, I decided that I wasn't going to write about random things I noticed. That wasn't the point of this blog.

Today, I make one quick exception for a clever sign I saw on the outdoor advertisement-board of a strip club:

Back to school special!
All clothes: 100% off!


Ha!
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Just coping

This weekend: one funeral, one wedding. "Siggghhhh", to both.

There is still no word on The Job. Disappointing, as I said to myself, "Well, by the long weekend, this whole thing will be resolved anyway and even if I don't get it, then at least I won't have it hanging over my head anymore."

Wrong. Should I have expected anything else?

I'm also waiting to hear about another job at a Marketing firm that I wouldn't mind being offered, simply because I've been told by a friend who works there that it's a very hectic, sometimes stressful place. It may not be my dream job, but hectic and stressful mean I'd be BUSY, and I'll take busy over bored any day of the week.

But the person who is in charge of hiring for that job is in the States until after the weekend, and I'm told he likely won't get around to hiring for it for a few weeks anyway.

Which means, I need to find ways to cope with my current job.

I never thought I'd ever be a person who had to cope with their job. Up until this point in my life, I adored my career. I loved being a journalist; while the actual day-to-day goings-on in some of the newsrooms I worked in were draining, I still loved the work I was doing every day.

Now? I'm in a soul-sucking job, working in a cubicle, doing something I don't care one lick about. I have said to myself, my entire life, "I will never work a desk job!" Alas, here I am. I am gravely disappointed in where I've ended up.

However. In the interest of maintaining my sanity so I can actually present myself well if I should get an interview somewhere else... I have to find some ways to make it through the day. One way, the only one I've devised so far, is to start running on the track at lunch every day. That's a dual-benefit activity, obviously: smaller ass, and at least 40 minutes away from my desk.

That's the only feasible one I've come up with so far.

That, and bringing Bailey's Irish Cream to work to put in my coffee. Three shots per cup, six cups per day, and I suspect this job will be a fucking dream.
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Wednesday, September 01, 2004

Oh shit.

If you ever write a message, 20K in length, to a very close friend... one that details every problem you're having with your job, including first names of people and places and organizations... and how you're desperately looking to find a new job... where you've applied and who you've spoken to and so on...

MAKE SURE YOU SEND IT TO THE CORRECT EMAIL ADDRESS.

I forgot an underscore.

The person who got this message could be some little old lady in Uzbekistan who doesn't even own a computer, but got signed up for the address by her great grand daughter in New York.

It could also be some awful, vindictive person who will do the very easy Google search on a few names I've mentioned, and send the email to my boss and prospective employers.

Holy SHIT. As if I wasn't already stressed out. What the hell do I do NOW?
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