Today I'm supposed to hear from the last place with whom I interviewed. Perhaps an update will be forthcoming. If anything, it will be a second interview. If nothing, well, I guess I'll keep looking. As of the 23rd, it has been two months since I was fired. I've been on five interviews, walked out of a job fair nearly in tears (and puke), been offered one job buy a creepy pervert, met with one career counselor, updated my resume six times, written ten different cover letters, applied for at least ten jobs, and been declined for one job.
It's been a busy two months. Why don't I have a job yet?
Yesterday I had a mini panic attack in bed. It was one of those oh-my-god-I-only-have-one-life-and-its-a-quarter-of-the-way-over-and-I-have-nothing-to-show-for-it moments. I was freaking out about death and wondering what it would be like if nothing happened after you died. What does it feel like to be dead? To not feel anything? To cease to exist? I can't comprehend it. The church had BETTER be right about all that God stuff, otherwise? Well, I guess it won't matter. I won't care. I'll be dead. But it's a sobering thought that keeps me awake and really, really warm.
Please allow me to sing for you. Gray skies are gonna clear up! Put on a happy face!
Fine: be that way, Mr. Raccoon.
1 day ago