Wish Me Luck

Are you ready for more whining about my employment status? Oh god, it seems eternal, doesn’t it. That’s probably because I have now been without a “real” job for the past 17 ½ months. I wonder if the time can be counted much like a child’s? I guess once I reach two, I’ll let you know. Speaking of which, Aitch is 22 months old.

I found out yesterday that yet one more position that I really wanted and that I thought was going to be IT – wasn’t. It’s crushing. Of course I got a little weepy after I hung up the phone. I’m sure my desperation didn’t come across when I updated my Facebook status.

*bleh*

The one person who has every right to be disappointed with me right now has actually been my rock. I am to blame for losing my job of 10 years and the retirement funds and the insurance, and yet Sparring Partner reminds me that while yes, the extra income and benefits were and would be nice, we are not in fear of losing our home or being able to take care of our children. I can go to the grocery store and still pick up a box of Ho-Hos or Double Stuff Oreos for a special treat. I can go buy socks and underwear for the boys in our house when I notice holes and tearing of seams. I can go to my favorite greenhouse and pick up annuals to spruce up the deck. I can sign up my son for swimming lessons and arts and craft projects and archery lessons and football to give him something to do over the summer break.

These simple tasks are luxuries to many and I do not take them for granted, while at the same time Sparring Partner has to pull me aside and remind me from time to time, especially when I’m feeling sorry for myself, that everything WILL be okay. I want to find someplace to work that will remind me that I’m a valuable asset. I know my family appreciates me, but honestly? Conditional “love” is as important to me as unconditional love. Right now I’m just not as happy as I could be and it’s obvious to those close to me.

All I can do is keep looking. Maybe even throw in a good cry and wash it down with a glass of wine, like I did the other night. I can’t be lucky all the time. It was bad luck that brought me here and introduced me to some fabulous on-line friends. I guess sometimes Bad Luck is just really Luck turned on its head.

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8 thoughts on “Wish Me Luck”

  1. (HUGS) He’s right, you know. It WILL be fine.
    I can understand the feeling though, I’ve worked since the day after my 16th birthday. When I lost my last job, I was only out of work for 10 days, but damn! did I feel worthless. The house was spotless, but I felt like a loser. I will give Joe his props, he was the one who kept picking me up, telling me to STOP.CLEANING.THE.GODDAMN.OVEN fer Crissakes!! Thankfully (?) we hadn’t had the kids yet, so if we had to live in our car, it would just be the 2 of us.
    Love you, DD. It will be O.K. And those people don’t know what they missed out on.

  2. That just sucks. I’m sorry you didn’t get the job–I’ve been turned down for many, many jobs that I thought were IT and it’s never fun. Hopefully there is something even better around the corner for you.

  3. I’m so sorry you didn’t get the job. I think we all get a lot of validation from our work, I can only imagine how hard it is not to have that. I hope that something comes along soon!

  4. Sparring partner is right. I’m sorry it’s been so long and I hope there’s something much better waiting at the end of all this. I AM wishing you luck – and lots of it.

  5. Gah. So sorry that you didn’t get that job. But I’m happy for you that Sparring Partner is being gentle with you and reminding you to trust the process. Hard to do.

    I hope you find a place to value and love you — conditionally or otherwise — soon.

  6. Let’s just pretend it’s “God’s special plan” for you for right now. Hahahaha…sorry, I can’t even keep a straight face on that one.

    This is a run of bad luck, but as long as your job is not vital to survival, try not to worry about it so much. I hope the right job will come along soon.

    But here’s what you’d be missing out on if you worked with me: disgruntled maintenance workers from the city that owns our building coming in for a bitch session. Boss that hates me and the disgruntled worker wandering into an infrequently-visited corner of the building while the bitch session is in progress. Boss that hates me giving me the evil eye, even though he has no business being in my area. Psycho coworker trying to tell me unfunny stories. Psycho coworker trying to adjust her chair (which is at least 20 years old) so it won’t squeak, which requires frequent testing to see if the squeak is gone. It’s not. And that doesn’t even begin to cover annoying husband texting me from home over things he should be handling and annoying work that it’s taken me months to complete.

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