Thursday, August 29, 2013

Heat and Olive Oil

I had an interview today at that Olive Oil shop (remember that?) I'm hoping that they'll actually hire me, despite the fact that it'll only be 10 or so hours a week to begin with. At least at this interview the lady who interviewed me didn't spend all of her time gushing over my Masters degree.

These days I don't feel like much of a master of anything.

It seems that the BF's kidney stone has gone the way of the dodo. Or at least for the most part. He had an ultrasound and while the tech said there was a 3 mm stone left in his kidney, his GP said that was hooey and he's in the clear. Apparently that ultrasound stuff seriously works. He's still in a bit of pain, but it looks like he's better. This is a good thing.

It's been stunningly hot here in MI the last few days. The lack of AC at my house is super annoying and frankly, I don't know how I've been sleeping. Some nights I obviously haven't slept well at all. Last night I went to the BF's house and my love of AC cannot be expressed enough.

My love of his mother's love of smooth jazz? Not so much.

Wednesday, August 28, 2013

My Field Is Empty. Whoosh.

I've had a couple of days since I found out Chic hired somebody else. I honestly can't be mad at the other intern they ended up hiring-I'm sure she had no idea I was interested in the job or that I even interviewed.

I am, however, vaguely annoyed with the other people at Chic.

On Monday I was sort of under the impression that they were going to take me to lunch. I was under this impression due to the fact I was asked "Hey, would you like to be around for a sort of "thank you" lunch?"
This doesn't make me totally insane.

So I went in on Tuesday, prepped for boredom (as I have no real job) and a vague sense of giving no fucks. Both of these things happened. And then what happened?

No lunch.
I was called forward to cover the front desk while the new (paid) receptionist went on her lunch break and everyone either went out or ate at their desk. While I appreciate that I don't necessarily deserve anything, I had an impression.

I ended up going to a late lunch at Qdoba where I ran into one of my friends that I've made there at Chic. We chatted and she's almost more incensed that I didn't get hired than I am. She then took me across the street to buy me a going-away cupcake.

My last day ended not with a bang, not with a whimper, but with the sound of a tumbleweed, running through the empty field of fucks that I don't have.

Monday, August 26, 2013

Today I received a nasty shock.

I've been overly worried totally obsessing over this maybe-job at Chic. It's to the point where I'm fairly certain anyone who knows me is ready to poke me in the eyeball in order to get me to change the subject.

I go into my faux-internship and at the front desk is one of the other interns, who I sort of assume is taking over for a bit until I get there.

Funny story!
She wasn't.

I got to do some filing all day while she was training as the new receptionist.

It was a very very long day.

It's time to obsess over something else. Like a new exciting job that I can get because of my degree instead of in spite of it. Or this new cookbook I got that is freaking delicious (so far).

I keep peeling off my nail polish for something to do.

Wednesday, August 21, 2013

Secret Time! I Have A Masters Degree...

I probably am not the best at handling stress.

This maybe-job at Chic has sent me into emotional overload. I had a second interview on Monday which went something like this.
"...You have a Masters degree. Did you know that? You're 27 and you have a Masters degree. I don't even have a Masters."
"Yes, I have a Masters. So about this recepti-"
"Sigh. Yes I do"

And around and around we went.
Long story short, I was told that while they would go to bat for me, the final hiring decision is with the publisher guy and he tends to like the degree to match the position. This means that my having a Masters degree is a strike against me.

Obviously I took this very well until I got in the car and proceeded to flip my shit. Sobbing while driving isn't as much fun as one would think.
It also leaves smudges on your sunglasses and if you're like me, you're too lazy/forgetful to clean them.

Since this conversation I also had a run in with the other company who holds my student loans (not Ms. Mae). This led to more crying. Thank god the BF is made of infinite patience. I tend to cry a lot these days and grind my teeth. This leads to headaches and not sleeping. And crying.

I hate doing all of these things and I probably should say it again-I don't deal with stress that well.

However, perhaps things are starting to look up. I slept last night. I got an e mail saying that I've got 60 days on my loans while they deal with the "I'm seriously fucking unemployed" paperwork. I only ground my teeth the normal amount last night. I think I've got a lead on a handful of jobs.

Friday, August 16, 2013

My tummy is a-grumbly

The BF is still battling a kidney stone, much to his distress. He's had it for over a month and it took forever for any doctor to do much about it. The main problem was the BF didn't complain enough-while he was in pain, he wasn't in absolute screaming pain, which meant he wasn't a high priority patient. He was able to go about his day and whatnot and he's also very not good at dealing with the medical profession.
I, however, am very good at dealing with them. Next time this sort of thing happens, he's promised to let me deal with it.

The end result is he's still in a ton of pain and I don't like it. Obviously, neither does he.

I haven't been 100% myself these days. I think the stress of wanting this job at Chic is getting to me. My jaw is positively killing me (thanks TMJ!) and my tummy is all a-grumbly. I do not know how much the tummy thing has to do with the job thing, but I plan on blaming it on the job stress. It's easier that way.

I've been able to record my Polish data for the Paper That Will Not End, A Much Maligned Tale of Woe. However, this weekend is so freaking busy that I don't have enough time to work on it the way I'd like to. It's the Woodward Dream Cruise, book club and a freakishly nice weekend. I want to take the Mustang out, look at lovely cars and hopefully not get a sunburn.

I have very delicate lady skin.

Sunday, August 11, 2013

According to my blog stats, I have at least one person (or bot) in Russia reading this thing. I prefer to think that it is Edward Snowden, desperately attempting to pass the time while he figures out what to do in Russia.

Especially when he was trapped in the airport/hotel/no-man's land.
It's a thought that makes me giggle. With that said--
Hello Edward! Welcome! Здравствуйте! Как дела? (you should work on your Russian)

Yesterday I finally posted in a Facebook group that I joined a few weeks ago. It's a bit touchy-feely for my taste, but it's run by a girl whose blog I read occasionally, so I thought I'd try it. I mean, goodness knows things can't really get much worse?

(I'm purposely keeping everything vague here because if this ends up helping me, fantastic. And others might find it helpful-I'm not in a place to openly mock what might be useful. However, that won't stop me from being as sceptical as I can be.)

Every morning (or as best you can), according to this group, you're supposed to begin your morning With Intention. Whether you spend it writing, meditating or exercising, you're to do it With Intention. I think it's got something to do with the Seven Habits of Highly Effective People. Frankly, I need Seven Habits of People Who Are Able To Function Somewhat Normally In Any Given Week.

I'm deep enough in my ennui to try anything to see if it helps, but also not so deep into it that I can't give my Intentional Acts the healthy side-eye.
This morning, instead of exercising (which I have been trying to do a few times a week because reasons raisins someone told me I should), I read the paper quietly for about half an hour before my mother came in and wouldn't shut the hell up, as she is wont to do.

Tomorrow we're going to try listening to a different podcast or meditating or something as I might maybe probably won't hear about this job, but want to hear about it anyway.
I have to do it With Intention.


Saturday, August 10, 2013

My Ennui

I've been going through some serious ennui stuff lately.

The OED defines ennui as

a. The feeling of mental weariness and dissatisfaction produced by want of occupation, or by lack of interest in present surroundings or employments.

I don't have a lack of interest in present surroundings or employments, but I do have a severe mental weariness at the lack of employment. The place where I intern (and subsequently did not quit), is hiring a full time receptionist. We shall, from here on out, refer to this place as Chic Magazine. 

Chic gave me the heads up that they were hiring someone and offered me the chance to put my hat in the ring. I apprecaited the opportunity, as I've obviously got nothing else on the horizon. 
But then my tender and very fragile little ego was beaten into submission the next day as two perfect-looking girls came into the office to interview for my job. 

I was crestfallen and crushed and smushed and basically beaten down. Then, come to find out, they will have interviewed a total of 8 other people. 

I've been freaking out about this all week, which obviously doesn't help, but I don't know what else to do. 

Needless to say, my ennui is at an all time high and I'm doing my best to battle through.

I really really want this fucking job at Chic. Shall keep you posted.

Friday, August 2, 2013

My temper is on edge

It's safe to say that I have a temper. Sometimes it takes a lot for me to get angry and sometimes it doesn't. I'm not quite Hulk-like it my rage, I don't run around smashing things. I tend to be a slow simmer, waiting to boil over at a moments notice.

I say this because I've been on the verge the last few days.

My mother (and let's face it, we should've seen this coming. Rage usually begins with a mother) travels for work and works far too hard. I understand this. I don't like this, I want her to work less because I'm constantly worried she's working herself into an early grave.

Now she's sick. And when she's sick the world comes to a crashing halt and those few people who are still standing are obviously meant to be at her beck and call.

I can't even get into too many details, but the point of this story is she asked if coming home early from her work trip would screw up my day. I made the tragic error of saying "...a little".
The reaction was extraordinary. And not in a good way. The guilt trip from her was a vision, considering she's not even Catholic.

My temper is on edge.