Category Archives: It's Not a Living

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.


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.

Defeated. Deflated.

My apology for the last post. I was just so frustrated and angry and needed a quick vent or I would have fucking gone postal so for the first time in four years, I emailed a post in.

This post may take a while because I’m watching last night’s DVR’d Saturday Night Live with Betty White. And my battery is waning on my laptop. And BettyfreakingWhite!


I just now deleted a long diatribe about the work situation, but you know? There’s just no point to it. Defeatism is panting at my heels.

Should I bother mentioning it was Mother’s Day today? Oh, you knew that? Of course you did. Isn’t it funny how the celebration of this holiday is done by escaping all things mother-related, like getting the kids up and dressed, and breakfast prepared, snacks ready, homework, lunch, laundry, naps, baths, supper and keeping the peace until bedtime so that finally….FINALLY, there’s time to chill out?

You should know how my day went if you paid any attention to the time stamp of this post (it’s currently 10:37 p.m. CST). Yeah, so Mother’s Day was pretty much like any other day from the past 8 years. Except this afternoon my son asked me to check out something on the table. I found a piece of pink construction paper that said, “To Mom From Doodicus Happy Mother’s Day” and taped to it was a ten dollar bill. One of HIS ten dollar bills from his gift stash.

God, I love that kid.

No Fence Can Be Built Tall Enough To Make Us Better Neighbors

When I lost my job (OVER A FUCKING YEAR AGO!), the only positive thought I had is that at least I’m not that VP who also lost her job and will have to sell her house and move to find ANYTHING even close to her prior salary or position. I knew I’d have to start at the bottom again because there’s no way we would or could move. I’ve done it before and can do it again.

That being said, I am SO over looking on job websites and newspapers and sending out resume after resume with only a smattering of responses that always say, “Upon review of your resume…blahblahblah….we have already filled the position….blahblahblah…” so fuck off. Oh. That’s me, not them.

I had submitted a resume to a large, local company via an email a few weeks ago. Almost immediately I got a rejection email back. The position had been filled. Do-wa-ditty-ditty-dum-ditty-do.

But last week I thought I caught a break when I had a voicemail message from the company’s HR department letting me know another position had opened up and I was instructed to complete their company’s app, which I did immediately the next day. Within 24 hours, I had an email from the HR person requesting an interview. I was seriously pumped.

Today I had the interview. Kind of. Actually, I sat across from one of their HR people and verified what I did and have done and then took their typing and 10-key test (with most excellent results – thank you). The rep then told me that the next step would be her presenting my resume to her boss, Mrs. Jung.

What? You don’t remember the infamous Mrs. Jung??

Our neighbor whose building permit I protested in public?

Our neighbor who absconded Aitch’s personalized birth day gift because it was mailed in error to her home?


I better go. Looks like I’ll be sending out more resumes.

Ugh. Just one more disadvantage to small town living.


As most of you know if you have access to my private posts, I am training my replacement at my temporary position. If you have kept up with my Facebook updates, you will also know it has been…interesting, for lack of a better word without actually saying, “Sucking hot, sweaty, fly-covered donkey balls.”

You think I’m exaggerating? The following exchange is just too good to keep under a password. Get this:

Today I was showing her how to order supplies via the internet. I instructed her click the “Add to Cart” button.

As she clicked, Trainee asked me, “What’s a ‘cart’?”


Suckday: The Eighth Day of the Week

It’s a shit day and I don’t feel like jazzing this up with anything funny or thoughtful or whatever the fuck normally comes from life’s ass-raping lessons.

I received an email today (I was cc’d) that an employee where I have been “temping” for a year come this lovely Friday, has decided to downgrade her hours and accept the position that I was temping for. What does that mean exactly?

It means, once they fill the position she is vacating – one I’m not qualified for – I will be once again without a paycheck. Fuck. Seriously. And you convinced me not to be a whore and take down my ex-stalker. Thanks. Thanks a lot. FML.

This on top of the fact that I couldn’t get to sleep last night after receiving a rather disturbing Flickr contact request from a person I had never heard of. His line was, “I use to follow your blog before it expired. Now I spend time on Flickr.” I went to check out his photos, which he had none. He had just had favorited other Flickr photographers’ photos. His selections seemed odd.

I googled his email. It came up to a Facebook account with what might be his “real” name. No picture. No updates. No friends listed. No location. Nothing. I googled his Flickr account name. Found some comments on Flickr, but it also lead me to several threads on The link is a list of his comments and posts he created. Innocuous? Maybe so, but after seeing some of the pictures he linked to via Flickr and some of his posts, I got a sick feeling in my stomach.

Especially this post regarding belly buttons. Especially since I see this as a recurring theme in his comments and posts. Especially since he’s using pictures of kids who aren’t his (and as far as I can tell – he doesn’t have) as an example. Especially when he asks to see photos of other kids’ belly buttons.

Infer what you will, but I immediately blocked him. I didn’t report him as many of my Facebook friends urged me to do because if the ICAC is going to be able to check him out, having his accounts suddenly deleted isn’t going to help out the next innocent person.

Maybe he’s just a normal guy who loves amateur photography, especially family orientated, but you know what? I don’t care. He’s a stranger to me and my family. Just to see what would happen, I responded to his request by asking, “Which blog are you referring to, Real Name?” (his name from Facebook since he didn’t use it anywhere else) and surprisingly, I’ve had no response.

So yeah. Not a good day.

Ironically, I just hung up with someone who’s been trying to get some information from several different departments where I work with no success, and she said, “You’ve been the most pleasant person I’ve talked to so far today. Thank you.”

It helped. A little. But now I’m going to go to the ladies room and have a good cry over how I hate my former employer(s). After this, if I’m ever offered a position where my supervisor is bald, I am SO declining. Billiard-ball-sporting fuckers.

I don’t care what Healthcare Reform “costs” the taxpayers. I care what it costs ME.

Due to a comedy of errors (without The Funny), our family is now without health insurance coverage. When I got the official letter, I admit, I nearly had myself a heart-attack, but because I couldn’t afford to have one, I just had a mild freak fit instead. Sparring Partner has been given strict instructions to get and save every receipt related to medical expenses in hopes of getting some of it back after filing taxes NEXT year.

I tried to reason with myself that our monthly out of pocket expenses surely couldn’t be more than what we’d pay for a monthly premium. Sadly, only two weeks into January and we had already shot our wad.

Doodicus’s 60 day supply of ADHD meds was $210. Aitch’s 18 month check up was $140. Then there was the urgent care visit for yet another ear infection for Aitch and the subsequent antibiotics that were filled. Not once, but twice. So, uh, yeah. Not quite the auspicious start I was hoping for in the new year.

After this last round of antibiotics for Aitch’s second ear infection of the year, we are now starting a six week regimen of AB (unknown cost at this time) that the pediatrician hopes will keep future infections away until the fluid can finally be absorbed by her body. If not? Then she’ll be getting tubes. Average charge at the local hospital? $2,700.

I haven’t made an appointment about my earlier concern (protected post). I haven’t a clue what the cost there will be.

Of course, then there’s the mammogram screening I need since the last time I had one was Fall 2007 as required by my RE before I could go through the donor egg transfer as I was then pushing my big fat zero around with a four. That alone will set me back about $450, including the radiologist’s fee.

What I wouldn’t give to be able to bitch once again about $25 office visit copays; $100 emergency physician copays; and $50 pharmacy copays… *sighs wistfully*

I’ve decided that I’m going to keep track of all of our medical expenses here. With the healthcare reform on life support (sadly) and full-time, permanent employment still a pipedream, keeping a runny tally will not only be helpful to me, but maybe someone else may find it beneficial, or at least interesting, to know what the “typical” medical expenses a family of four incur over a year. So I’ve started a new page on this blog.

And to avoid ending this post on what could without argument be the most boring conclusion ever, I’ll share a little story about Aitch:

She’s a bit “particular” when it comes to routines. Loves them. Chaos and change? Hates. At bath time, normally we go and start the tub water to warm it up, call out, “Bath!” and she comes running. While the tub fills, we get her undressed and the clothes go into a little pile by the door to be taken out to the hamper later.

The other night, I told her it was time for her bath while sitting in the living room. She was happy to hear it and started off. I stopped her by telling her to take off her socks. So she sat down and took them off. And the pants and the shirt (with some help – obviously). I asked her to pick up the now discarded clothes and we went into her room and I pointed to the hamper and asked her to put her clothes in there, and she did.

THEN we went into the bathroom. While my back was turned, adjusting the temp of the water, she dashed out of the bathroom. A few seconds later, she came back holding the pants, shirt and both socks in her arms. She deposited them, very deliberately, next to the door, gave them a pat as if to say, “Stay!” and then walked over to me to check out the status of the water in her bath.

She even puts away the box of colors and coloring books, you guys! Oh, yes, she does.

Until then…

One of my favorite times of the year is upon us. No, not Christmas. Winter Solstice! Why? Because it marked the shortest day (in sunlight hours) of the year.

It means that from that moment on, our days will get a little bit longer…and a little bit longer…and a little bit longer still. Winter Solstice to me means that spring is on its way! Crazy isn’t it? Especially when you consider that right now the Midwest is be dumped on by the largest blizzard of the year. Probably the largest we’ve had in several years. But I don’t care. Spring is just around the corner in my head.

Today I got a call from daycare. Aitch had thrown up. They had to wake her from a morning nap, which she was just moving out of and getting into a one nap a day routine. The night before we woke to her screaming and crying and while she settled quickly, she didn’t go back to sleep for over an hour. Right now, I’m listening to her whimper on the monitor and cough every 15 minutes or so. After I picked her up from daycare, she acted normal so I’m not sure what’s going on, but the wheezing she’s been doing for the past couple of days gives me cause for concern.

In just little over an hour, it will be Christmas Eve and I have never felt so unprepared for it. I’m tired of strangers thinking it’s OK to ask me if I’m ready for Christmas. It reminds me of when I would take Aitch out as a newborn and I would get asked if I was nursing. It’s none of your damn business and why do you even care?? See how full of the season’s spirit I am?

With that, I do wish you all a wonderful weekend whether you’re getting snowed in or if you’re taking a dip in the pool (a nod to my southern hemispherian friends), but more importantly I wish you all a spectacular New Year in 2010. I’m wishing it will bring me a job.

Happy Holidays, my friends. Count your blessings. We each have more than we realize.

'Tis the Season to be Merry