I generally write when I don’t know what else to do.
Watch the curser blink from right to left.
Words appear on the screen with each click.
A little like a dance.
Today I am waiting for my replacement to come. She’s taking over my job, and they are moving me into another department. Hopefully one that is just as steady, and they won’t send me home for a week at a time like I’ve heard they do. If that’s the case, we’ll be cutting back our credit card payments and our budget, so I suppose that it won’t be that big of a deal.
I’m still waiting for real jobs to come through. Real jobs with insurance, and a 401k plan. People who say that they’ll call, and then they don’t.
I have a feeling that job hunting is a little like being in a bad dating scene. You have so much to offer, they make so many promises, and then they’re gone without any explanation. They just don’t call, or tell you to call them in a week, and then don’t return the call. Why bother calling if there’s not even anything there to call for? Why interview when the job req isn’t solid?
None of it makes sense.
Pete and I have started the Apartment Therapy Cure, to get the apartment ready for “Thanksgiving”. Chrismahanukwanzathanksmakuh. I think that’s what I’ll start calling it. It’s really just about people getting together, hanging out, and eating a turkey. On top of the fact that we’ve been living in our mess for too long. I’m tired of the mess. I’m tired of it stressing me out. I know that the mess will come and go, but my desire to get the puke yellow brown color off our walls is not going to go away. I can’t believe that I’ve lived in my townhouse for almost two years! And just now, we’re making enough money to paint it!
Can't wait for the finished product. Can't wait, can't wait, can't wait.