Methinks herding unicorns is about as easy as hunting for a job. As I am currently involved in the latter, I know of what I speak. My Dad, the man who paid for my college education, suggested I apply to be a greeter at Walmart. While I’m sure Walmart greeting is a lovely occupation, I don’t think the blue apron thing is bulletproof and am far too snarky to smile for eight hours. Unless the salary is a $500/hour situation.
My French friend, AJ, wants me to teach conversational English. Bless her heart, she doesn’t know I have been a very bad teacher. I don’t believe instructing her to say “Hell, no!”, “Are you kidding me?”, “Get lost!” and other pleasantries will be of much help. At least she will never be bullied. Could totally teach conversational cursing but don’t think the position exists. If you’d like to take this course, it’s $500/hour.
You may wonder what my skill set includes. This would be laughing, walking my dog, reading, and eating. I know, amazing, right? Seriously, I do have experience in many areas. Just have to find that golden ticket. And I will. Maybe it’s canning cornichons, testing trampolines … the possibilities are endless. My only prerequisite is a salary.
The very best outcome would be to do what I love while helping as many people as possible. Please do not suggest customer service.
Off to jump in my bed and pull covers over my head. Because this is such a productive activity and representative of stong motivation and focus. Gah!
It’s not all lemonade and lollipops around here; sometimes it’s a sauerkraut and Draino martini situation. That would be the last 24-hours. Despite my insane determination to maintain inner composure and be happy no matter what, my cup almost boiled over.
Took eldest daughter to dinner last night to celebrate her birthday. We had a nice time. During dinner, a friend and his daughter walked past our table; I had to say his name to get his attention. He said he didn’t recognize me because I am always reinventing myself. My reply, “Yep, me and Madonna.” WTH? Maybe it’s because the last time I saw him, I had shorter hair and a job.
Mi Madre called as I was running errands earlier. She wanted to let me know “what’s going on”. She probably needed to vent, but it was one misery after another. When she came up for air, I asked her if there was anything positive? NO! Wow. No matter how many times this happens, I don’t know how EVERYTHING can always be wrong. I can’t live there. Yikes.
Get a text from youngest daughter. She’d planned on driving four hours to one city, run a half-marathon, drive five hours home, attend Day 6 of her sister’s birthday festival, stay over for Mother’s Day lunch, then drive three hours back to school. We’re talking one weekend here. Her text said she realized she couldn’t do all that and I complimented her on being smart, not to mention, safe.
My friend calls and the conversation gets around to her sucky job. She said, “I think I want to quit and be like you, but I don’t have your bankroll.” Surely she meant “bedroll” cause that’s the only roll I have. I just said, “YE GODS, WOMAN, DO YOU KNOW OF WHAT YOU SPEAK?”. Then my cell phone went dead from lack of juice. Whew.
Get a rancid phone call from eldest daughter. I love her with all my heart, but she has a bit of a stubborn streak. She’s a teacher and probably had a rotten day. The only words I was able to understand from that spew was that I had assassinated her character(?). I could tell she was just getting started so I did what I always do when this happens; say “I love you” and hang up. No one speaks to me that way, especially my children. I mean, if God wants to talk, I’m all ears but that ain’t happening either. That I know of.
So now comes the part where you just know I am going to throw myself off the roof or at least wallow like a pig in a self-pity pool. SURPRISE! I’ve got fresh sheets on my bed, a sweet little dog that follows me wherever I go, food in my stomach, and a roof over my head. That trumps any and all of the day’s crapola.
Tomorrow will be a better day. Indeed! Right?
Dear Smarter People Than Me (that would be a majority of the population on Wednesdays and Fridays):
I have a very small, very new candle company. The product rocks. The locals love. I do not sell to stores nor will I. Because the quality must be perfect for me to sell, the cost is higher than that of say, Glade.
I am prohibited from selling them on Etsy. While I select and purchase my fragrance oils, design and create all labels and marketing materials, I have a candlemaker. Which knocks me out of the homemade arena.
I’ve bought good stuff on eBay. But the candle section leaves me stone cold. I’m not a “Grandma’s Teacup filled with wax” kind of show. So now I am wondering if I just do my own website. If that is the case, where, what, and how much?
Thank you, in advance, for your consideration and input.
*just kidding about the smarter days – throw all seven in there*
Good grief! I never knew I would feel so “isolated” without a way to write (aside from pencil and paper). A grillion membership points, a brand new laptop, and three hours with a computer guru put me back in business yesterday. And I am doing a happy dance. Bad visual, good feeling. Have missed everyone in blog land. More than I could have imagined.
Have a question for you. It concerns grief.
Someone I am thisclose to is grieving. It is delayed. The loss of both parents in a relatively short period of time and the ensuing fracture of the family infrastructure is just now hitting. Hard. We all process differently – and at different times. The holidays can be hellish – when everything is going right; add infinite gallons of loss and one can feel downright dismal. Add to the mix that men and women can and often do process differently.
I felt a “disconnect” with this person brewing before Thanksgiving. Sensed the sadness, standing quietly by, reluctantly but instinctively. Repeating my mantra, “it’s not about me”. I addressed the disconnect between us last night. It was duly noted, my patience was requested. This is difficult for me as I haven’t experienced these losses nor would I want to be alone when doing so. I think. But this process does leave me alone more right now and it is confusing.
Which brings me to my question for you. Is delayed grief so pervasive it blankets everything in your life? Is it common for a loved one to be held at a distance? What is the best way to handle this? Any insights would be most appreciated.
Because, in the end, love is the only thing that matters.