I have not written a post since last month and I have to admit that I probably would not be writing one today except that I am out of control cranky and I need to do something with the the 'stuff' in my head or I swear my brain will explode like an over-filled balloon. If truth be known, I have refrained from writing because I seem to be caught in the unenviable position of loving the writing process to help me put things in perspective and not wanting those things in print because there simply is no good perspective to put them in anyway. Basically, I just want to run away from myself but try as I might to escape, no matter where I run, I keep showing up, just like a bad penny. I cannot seem to find a way to turn my brain off even for a few minutes. I am like a computer with too many tabs open, working overtime trying not to crash.
The long and the short of it is that I am beyond being able to manage this seemingly endless job search any more. I feel like a two-year old stomping her foot and having the worst tantrum ever (in the existence of life itself). In the almost 7 years we have lived here, we have been unemployed 4 times and I am sick of it--exhausted from the worry, tired of having to plaster a smile on my face so as to not make the children any more anxious than they are, wiped out from the financial stress but most of all, confused and frustrated as to why we spend month upon month with no interviews in sight. I know I have regaled you with my husband's networking prowess and his never ending optimism before. He feels that 'you just don't know who someone you meet might know' and how a job might come from something so simple as a casual introduction. At this moment in time, I think we have as much chance of winning the Powerball as we do an interview being scheduled--neither is happening.
Optimism was never my strong suit as I am much more of a realist. I tell it like it is--often to my family's chagrin. While I don't know what tomorrow will bring...uncharacteristically leaving room for a little optimism there, I do know that today I could just scream. Perhaps I will as I have heard it might be even more cathartic than writing--though much less socially acceptable I would think.