Over qualified. Under qualified. Kiss my ass. I need a job!
Job satisfaction? Who cares! A paycheck in and of itself is more than enough satisfaction at this point! Ridiculous!
Officially nine months since I began looking for a new job (or any source of income at all, really) and still flailing. No job = No home.
My divorce was final in December. I totaled my minivan in the same month. Used the bulk of my savings to buy a new car (well, not a brand new car, obviously!). Watching my fabulous credit score that I busted my ass to build dwindle month by month and every single day feeling more and more hopeless.
She tells me to keep the faith, that it will all work out. When? How? We’ll get through this together. Really? All in one piece?
I don’t even know what to tell the kids anymore.
I’m wrapped so completely tight with anxiety and constant worry that I can barely function beyond the daily “search for jobs, apply to jobs” routine, followed shortly thereafter by the “search for rentals, become even more depressed because I can’t afford any of these and they all want good credit and income 3x the rent to even *consider* offering you tenancy, or they’re in a drug-infested neighborhood, or a school district that makes the kids’ failing district look like a 10-star school” routine. Ending each day curled up on my air mattress in a puddle of snot, tears and hopelessness.
Haven’t been back to therapy since the accident. Pretty sure at this point I never will. No money for that.
In the meantime, I’ve gone back to school full-time. Under the assumption that at least I’d be working toward something and it would help occupy my brain so I stop going off into all these dark, negative places so much. Wrong — it’s just more stuff to worry about.
At this point I’m about ready to drop off the face of the earth — except that I have these three kids who really need me, and this beautiful loving girlfriend who tries so hard to bring me back from those dark places because she needs me too.
Those are the only things *right* in my life. But I still can’t find a way to bring them all together.
Everything starts and ends with: I NEED A FREAKING JOB!