I could complain about how I stayed up late working on my resume' last night because I thought I could get in on some of the deadlines to apply for jobs. . . until I realized every set of guidelines for application required a copy of my (not-yet-existent) teaching certificate.
I could complain about the jerks who fired my pilates teacher from her full time office job (on Monday!?), after leading her on about helping pay her tuition and having never given her a review or a raise in two years.
Instead, because tomorrow, May 1, is the feast of St. Joseph the Worker, I'm going to pray. For my job search, for my pilate teacher's job search (and to thank God her share of the shore house she rented with friends for the summer is already paid off), for anyone looking for a job and/or having struggles with his or her current job, or feeling anxious about possibly losing his or her job.
Feel free to add any intentions in the comment box. Even if you don't exactly believe in or agree with asking saints to intercede, a little prayer never hurt anyone. (Although it might make you have to clean your car interior.)
(Maybe a little too handy.)
Sorry I've been so quiet. I've kind of been in a bit of a low physical/mental energy slump this past week. Someday I'll have a real job with a real health plan so I can address that, and someday the ghost of April past won't haunt me so much either. And maybe someday soon I won't be constantly humiliated at the library (let's discuss your failure to get paid in front of the whole office! let's have one person schedule you to work at the circ desk and then have another person ask you why you're standing there after half an hour!), but until then, it's burying myself in books and avoiding things like turning on the computer and loading the dishwasher until the last minute.
That said, I did read two pretty good things this past week: One was Audrey, Wait! by Robin Benway. If you like young adult fiction you'll probably enjoy it. (Note: the hardcover version I borrowed from the library had a way better cover design.) O.K., it's a little vulgar at times (but really not extreme at all) and there's a little too much mention of "MJ" in it for my preferences, but I like that there are a lot of references to music. Reminded me of times with my late friend of high school/college and all our music obsessions and concert-going. She probably would've gotten all of the music references right off the bat. The resolution at the end was really well done and not silly, which I appreciated. Some of those high school girl stories can get really sappy and trite at the end.
Also, I stumbled upon a really well-written article in (of all places) the May issue of Self magazine. I almost didn't buy this magazine because I can't stand the "celebrity" on the cover. The singletons among my readership might appreciate this more than others. It's a personal piece by Sara Eckel (pages 36-38 if you go look it up in the library or grocery store) about not taking one's "single state personally." It was good stuff; really hit it on the head WRT a lot of my own feelings and experiences.
Now I'd really better go do that workout so I can get everything else done I need to before I send myself to bed early.
Sometimes, when I get stressed out, I bury my face in reading matter. I don't even realize I'm doing it until an hour has passed and I realize I haven't moved from the spot, with a book or magazine sitting in my lap. Or sitting on top of the cat who is sitting in my lap or more accurately stretched out across the entire length of my legs.
I think that's O.K. That's one of my favorite features in one of the magazines I read on occasion (maybe Glamour?): the "Hey, It's O.K." list. As in, "It's O.K. to be the only one obsessed with the condition of your pedicure, even though it's the dead of winter." Well, they're not all so superficial, but you get the idea. So here are five more things to which I say, It's O.K. . . .
1. to deem funny cartoons the poor man's therapy session.
2. to be attached to an outdated technology (VCR, landline, the stereo you've had since your college days, etc.).
3. to shop at a store in city limits, and pay higher sales tax, even though nearly exactly the same store is around the corner from you, just because the staff is nicer at the city store.
4. to say hi to your neighbor's cat as he's sitting in the window watching you come up the stairs to the building entrance. (And not take it personally if he just keeps staring at you.)
5. to get annoyed when radio DJs talk over the beginnings or endings of songs. Especially songs you like. To the point where you're thinking maybe it's time to do something about #2.
This blog recently passed Post Number 300! Woo-hoo! I feel like giving something away. Haven't decided what yet. (I'm a Libra, and that's O.K.)
Here's what you do: Add your own "It's O.K." in the combox. Doesn't have to be literary genius (have you seen mine?); just take a stab. Multiple comments will not increase your chances of winning but will be highly entertaining nevertheless. I'll do a random drawing from all the names and pick one winner next Friday. Maybe I'll have the cat do it because she's been kinda bored lately. And I will send the winner one awesome prize. Doesn't sound hard at all, does it? No! Oh, wait-
THE CATCH: Because this is the Friday Five, at least FIVE (5) different people have to comment. Or I give myself a prize instead. Please, save me from my temptation to spoil myself. I know you all can do it.
Make me proud.
And have a nice weekend.
(which for full Elle Woods effect should be scented).
marinated bell peppers I made for tomorrow's dinner.
Cooking and writing are pretty much where my talents lie.
- Because the library is closed Good Friday all the way through Easter Sunday, I'm cramming 17 hours of work into three days (because Thursdays I work at the bookstore). I know it doesn't sound hard, but (a) my supervisor has been out since last Friday and hadn't told me when she was coming back--until a co-worker asked me tonight if I'd seen her walk in on her way to the board meeting (uh, NO); (b) a lot of what I'm working on right now is dependent on outside information/responses, and I'm waiting; and (c) because of the Passover/Easter/spring break stuff going on this week, the library is either super-busy or super-dead. Today, it was super-busy when I walked in at 2:30 and super-dead from about 7:30 till close.
- Cullen posted his answers to my interview questions!
- Ashley made some tasty-looking cupcakes at her little apartment!
- These are the kinds of things I get excited about these days!
- I'm trying to get more exercise in during the week--so far, pretty successful. (The best part about exercise videos is that you can yell insults at the instructors and they just continue on with the same goofy smile on their faces.) Where I'm failing is the apparently concomitant increase in appetite. I hope that goes away.
- Also going through one of those periods where it's just a drag being single. And I'm not talking about needing someone who, uh, understands me right now. I'm chaste, but I'm not dead inside, y'know?
- Planning to sit down with the disc that supposedly has my salvaged data on it. I need to be able to do it at my leisure, which probably means the end of the week, after Good Friday. (In the meantime, I got my act together and ordered a back-up drive that my Mac advisor suggested--Thanks, Bingley!) I really need to start writing again, in full force.
- Just simply looking forward to things slowing down at the end of the week. And having my sister home for Easter. And doing the "Polaroid project" with the kiddos.
Man, I sound sad. Don't you be sad! I know, I'll share one of the malapropisms that had me laughing really hard this past weekend:
Scene: Beavis & Butt-Head are watching the
video of Rick Derringer's "Real American" (featuring Hulk
BH: Hulk Hogan is a real American because he did
whatever it took to get big and strong--yeah, using all those
B: Um, I thought steroids were the
things you put up your butt to make you go poop.
BH: No, you dumba**! Uh. . . those are depositories.
B: Uh, oh yeah, right.
There's probably something very wrong with me that I find that funny. Did I mention the conversation segues into a discussion of how steroids are stupid because they "shrink your nads"?
Probably explains why I like working with teenagers, though.
I think that's what is bugging me about this job: there is minimal guidance and I feel as if I'm floundering around half the time.
That, and the frequent comments from the rest of the staff about how I'm "never there." Yesterday I nipped that one in the bud the minute it came out of someone's mouth. Maybe I was overreacting a bit, but I felt within my rights to smile and say with an exasperated laugh, "Hey, that's hurting my feelings! I'm here. . . just not at the same time that you are, every time." Which is true--often I'm there at night, after the people who clock out at five are gone.
I guess I picked my response at the right time, because my direct supervisor happened to walk in and she added, "And I'm sure she'd be here more often if they offered her a full time job!"