As the first month of January 2011 ends, I can't help but feel disappointed.
But it's only the first month, either way I am still disappointed. In the job market, in my interviewing skills, in the cosmic revolution.
I have applied for so many jobs. So. Many. Jobs. More than I care to remember. I bet some people receive my resume multiple times and just think, “Who is this girl in Atlanta, that really, really needs to get out of her job in this tough economy?” That would be me. It's hard.
Harder than when I was unemployed. Harder because I am not even applying for positions in my territory, not in my state at all. Then, the few people that call me, I mess up. I just start fumbling on the phone interview, yakking a whole bunch of nonsense. I keep telling myself, get it together but I can't seem to. Then, when it falters, I get to work and I hate myself, hate, absolutely abhor myself. Think, why did I fuck up? You could have been outta here but you stupid twit you fucked it up. I look at the pictures of escape that I have on my cube wall thinking it would inspire me to do better. Why can't I do better? I thought by narrowing down my want it would help, instead of having those random prayers...like I want to move to Iceland. I thought make it realistic, make it plausible, make God believe in it and maybe just maybe, He'll make them come true.
It is so hard and frustrating.
So if you need to find me, unfortunately I will be buried in trying to figure out Option 2, plan B since Plan A is taking so fucking long and has so woefully failed. Just as well, maybe it wants me to move to Plan C. By the way, Plan C is that plan that is the last resort, the very last resort, the “stranded on a desert island” resort, the plan that would shock other plans and put them to shame. That's the plan. Isn't it amazing that I have two extremes worked out with no middle ground?
One can only hope that February holds some promise. Please February, hold some promise.
If some things gonna happen, it needs to happen now.
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