job hunting blues

I had another job interview yesterday. God, it's hard on a body to get psyched up, feel butterflies in the stomach 24 hours beforehand, in the interview, and afterward wanting to hurl those beauties out.

The nerves just absolutely take me over and I have an out of body experience when I am in the interview. Sometimes I say things I shouldn't and think "This is such an artificial process why not let them see the real me flaws and all (I don't usually get those jobs)."

Interviews are funny things. It's like I put on my gold lame tap shoes and do the little dance of me in front of a deadpan audience and then exit the stage to no applause or booing - just unemotional, unblinking stares from strangers who are viewing and judging every move I make.

After they interview me, I always wish that I could grill them. Ask them, "Why should I work for you? What do you have to offer me? What qualifies you to judge me on a one hour interview and a few words on paper?" Make them do the dance of their lives.

F.

I feel so lost and directionless when it comes to my future professional career. I was driving home from dropping the kids off at school and the thought came to me that maybe I should do something completely different like train to work at an old folks home. Something about honouring those that came before. I feel out of touch with that generation. Maybe changing their poopie diapers would help me achieve that...see? I am crazy now. It's official.

??

These days I feel like I am in a dream. Things are happening around me and I am on the sidelines waving my hands trying to be seen.

I drive through the downtown on a weekday and see everyone rushing around to their jobs and feel envy. I never thought I would. Things are so topsy turvy not having a job. Didn't think I could sustain doing the limbo for this long. Feels like the bar is so low that I have to bend farther and farther back each time to get under to reach the other side where things are good and clear and somehow better. But are they? Or will I just get an aching back? So confused.

I know the universe is trying to tell me something in this period of stasis: "Lady, you don't have a job right now because you need to learn A,B,C." But what the F are A,B,C? Answers, please. Universe? Are you there? The answer can't just be that I need to vaccum the house twice a week and learn new and delicious slow cooker recipes.

Frig.

and some such

Dear Sweet Blog - how I have neglected you so. I will try to give you the full attention you deserve from this day forward amen.

A few ramblings...

Been nursing a skin-and-bones, rack-of-ribs cat back to health. Buster the Feather Duster quit eating a week or more ago and as we practically weighed the options of taking him to the vet (where bills are expensive) or trying to cure him ourselves it became evident urgent action was necessary. So off to the vet we (me and he) went where we spent the better part of 2 hours waiting for a vet who had an emergency crop up in the back. Another poor beast kept going into cardiac arrest as we waited. The poor thing had died by the time we’d finally been seen. And weirdly the vet gave us a discount for having to wait so long.

My feline may have kidney failure or an infection. The only way to really tell is to spend lots more on tests. We don’t have lots more to spend so we are nursing him at home with freshly cooked whizzed up liver syringed into his clamped down jaws. It’s a sensory experience. So stinky and most of it seems to get shot all over me (even down my cleavage once) and not into said cat’s lips.

The good news is he has started to eat again and is getting his little belly back.

In other news, I am my own psychological mess these days and am trying not to get any on my kids. I have obviously failed at this. Why just this morning as I was chatting to boy child about why he would be going to after school care (“Mama is hoping to get a job soon and then…”) when he interrupted with “And then you will be happy?” Sigh. Frig.

Not weird after all

Classmate of Girl Child to me: "(Girl Child) has two moms? I'm sooo confused."

Me: "Yup! There are all kinds of families!!"

Harried 8-month pregnant teacher quietly in the background: "Sometimes I wish I had two moms."

Blah

Day two of official unemployment. It is 11 a.m. and I am still not showered and dressed. Wore my pajamas and bed head to take boy child to school. Motivation for the day's activities? Zero.

My plans include seeing how long I can go without showering and attempting to grow my leg hair long enough to braid - two things I should be able to accomplish without much effort. What? I have to breathe again?

My little man

Boy child's school sets up "Santa's Workshop" in the school gymnasium every Christmas. Each kid gets to go there to "buy" a present for their folks. (Don't get me started on the imprinting of commercialism on the minds of small children).

Anyway, parents donate crap, I mean, stuff that they want to get rid of, I mean, re-gift to other unsuspecting, I mean, appreciative parents.

Boy child came home with a present for his moms one day and actually managed to keep it a secret until Christmas! We thought it was going to be stinky perfume but it turned out to be a cute gift that we would have probably actually bought for ourselves. We were some surprised and thanked him quite effusively.

Bolstered by our positive response, he proudly announced that he had "just walked in the door and randomly picked something off the table! I was done in like 10 seconds!" Such thought, such care, such a guy.

Reminds me of my father's efforts at Christmas. As us kids got older and moved out he started a tradition of shopping at London Drugs at 4 p.m. on Christmas Eve. All three of us and my mom would end up with the same randomly selected (okay, not random. There had to be at least four on the shelf) sandwich maker, hand vac, or nose hair trimmer. I used to quietly return them and get the cash - the perfect gift for a poor university student.