Job Update the Second

I did get the second interview. It's today at 1:30.
I know that this is the interview where I really should just relax and be myself because if they pick me now we're stuck together.
But I want it so BAD!! I want it to be PERFECT!!! SO I can't stop OBSESSING about what I want to SAY!!!
(I even researched "reference lists" so that mine would be perfect.

Sigh.

So everyone send lovely "NapLover is fabulous" vibes at 1:30, OK? Super.

My birthday was great... I had leftover cake for breakfast, then flourless chocolate cake at lunch with The Fabulous Michelle and then Lara made me a homemade-not-from-a-box chocolate cake that we had after dinner. That's a lot of cake. Who could ask for more?!?
Then Friday I had dinner with a friend, Saturday was World Wide Knit in Public Day and THEN an official meeting of The Girl Posse.
It was an all around good time.

I love when The Girl Posse meets because we always have a great time... for example, there was much enjoyment of the fact that IF I get this job I will be working for a convent. Oh yes. Me at a convent. They asked if I would have to wear a habit... and then The Fabulous Michelle said it would be the scorched one. Ha-freaking-ha. I'm not that bad!!

Anyway, I also hate it when The Girl Posse meets because it usually signals that one of our Girls is in trouble. She will totally be fine, but one of us has sustained a rather sizable blow. So we met to talk to her and make her laugh and remind her that we love her. And that she IS amazing and WILL come through this with grace and be more amazing than ever. (Yes, you will, so stop it).

It helps. And there isn't much more to do in these situations. Well, there are a few things I'd like to do with a bucket of ice water and a car battery, but there isn't much more that we can do LEGALLY in these situations.
If you don't have a Girl Posse, run out and get one. We are very handy. Some of us have tools.

Love you, honey... now get back to work before I tell your boss.

Job Update

I don't have one.
Thank you, and good night.

Seriously though... I had an interview today. She told me that 150 people applied for this job (that only required a Bachelor's degree). Of that 150 they picked me and 15 others to interview... they will make a decision about the NEXT round of interviewing by the end of the week.

And get this... one of the reasons I was picked was because they "had to know" how I made the leap from Operations Manager to Social Worker. It's not one of my more interesting stories.
I am hopeful that was not the only reason they wanted to interview me.

Also? All of the other 15 people have a Master's degree... so that doesn't even distinguish me at all.

Here's the worst part.
After meeting her and the other staff? I really want this job. It sounds like a perfect fit with my work style and interests. It is (literally) five minutes from my house. It would be really rewarding at least some of the time.

Dammit.

When will I learn to not want things?!?

Things always always come to you when you have decided not to want them anymore. Like men, for example.
Feast or famine.

That is all I have to report.

Happiness

There is a certain amount of levity that has become part of my life. It honestly surprises me. I find myself smiling a lot for no discernible reason. Knitting or showering or driving... every part of my day.

Could it be that I'm... what's the word... Happy?

With the lack of job (and consequently insurance) and the loss of the "non-platonic man friend" I should be sad and mopey... but I'm not. I realized last night - as I was trying and trying to sleep without sedative - that my anxiety and unease had everything to do with money and nothing at all to do with men.

On the job front, I feel so much more hope than I have felt in a long time. I have
an interview on Monday (working with victims of domestic violence - something I can be really passionate about) but even if that doesn't come together, all is not lost. There will be something, and with my continued frugality (stop laughing right this minute) I have a little more time before things become dire.

And it occurred to me that my relationship may have just been more trouble than it was worth. Worrying about it was pointless and exhausting. Who knew? (I mean, besides everyone else). I put way more into it than I got out of it. And THAT? Needs to fucking stop. That is my particular relationship quirk (how very Gemini of me) and every conscious effort will be made to alter this.
The last time I lost this particular boy I was suicidal. For months. But apparently I have changed more than I thought in the last ten years because now that the initial sadness has passed I just feel positively buoyant.

I keep checking these feelings, probing them, looking for some indication that this happy is just a brave face. I can find no such weakness.

I have worried over the last year or so, what things would be like once school was over - especially knowing that my relationship had an expiration date. People kept commenting that I must be excited to "get my life back." But that was not at all how I felt, since the life that I had 4 years ago bears no resemblance to the life I have now.

And I can say now that it is so much better - so much more clear and sweet than I thought my life would be. Add a job with benefits and I will call myself completely content.

Oh, Willoughby

I have been listening to Sense and Sensibility... I couldn't decide what I wanted to do more, read or knit, so I decided to do both.

I am just over halfway through and while I want so much to be as sensible as Elinor, I fear that I am resigned to be silly Marianne. Following my heart down a path that doesn't exist with very little clarity or encouragement from the object of my affection.

Damn you, Willoughby.

And of course, if the supposition is true, we are all better off without him... however little comfort that may be right now. Marianne was not at all comforted by the discovery of his failings. It just served to make her feel more ridiculous for loving him in the first place.

Yup. Fucking Willoughby.

I'm sure that she will find her way out of this melancholy. I'm sure she will find an appropriate match. Because really, Marianne? Know what the difference is between life with Willoughby and without him? Not a fucking thing... except that without him you can stop pacing in front of the window looking for his carriage and you can stop racing to meet the afternoon post and you can leave the house without worrying that you'll miss his call.

But that doesn't help much either. Because I know that Marianne and I are both hoping against hope that something will happen in the end to redeem him... that her love will not have been in vain and he will come to her all sweet and earnest.

She's just a child, so her hope makes some sense, but I know better.

Now that it's over...

I finally got my keys back.

The whole thing took about thirty seconds... and he said more to my cat than he did to me.

One person who knows both of us said that he was probably dragging it out because he didn't want to deal with it...
Sure, avoidance is something that Tigger does best... but THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU BREAK UP!

And the whole breaking up thing? Not actually my idea. I wanted the things that he said to me to actually MEAN something. And I wanted to not feel like crap.

Dragging it out was just humiliating and mean.
I shouldn't have to get angry before you do what you should have done in the first place.

Another person who knows both of us thinks that not saying anything to me was probably the smartest thing he's done in a long time.
Maybe.
But engaging me in conversation was not going to get uncomfortable, really. It's not like anything I would have to say would mean anything anyway, so I wasn't planning to waste the energy.

And that is all I have to say about that.
I promise.

Shock

I can not effectively express my shock and anger and sadness today.
I could write for days and never really get to the heart of how I'm feeling.

There is safety for all women when Choice is protected. Today, in this city, a man was killed because he made protecting women his life goal. He was gunned down in front of his church because he provided safety and comfort to women who made a difficult decision.

I feel less safe now that he is gone.

What do we do now? Where do we go now that this brave, gentle man has been taken from us? Where do we take our sisters and best friends in crisis now? Who will keep them safe?

One man with a gun and a misguided sense of right and wrong has damaged us all.

Birthday

Today is Jeff's birthday... he would have been 32.
Two years ago right now we were at a Cubs game and it gave me this big wave of hope that carried us through another couple of months.
Because he loved me... even if it wasn't enough to make a difference.

When I talk to Bean about it I remind her that he was happier with us - even at the end when he was altered - than he had been in the rest of his life. With us he was a husband and a father, two things he never thought he would be. And (in the beginning) he was funny and sweet and smart...

So for his birthday I thought I would do the thing that is always hardest for me... remember some of the good things.

1. When I couldn't sleep at night he would come in and curl up with me and rub my back and stroke my hair until I fell asleep.
2. Before my first KIP meeting I panicked and almost didn't go and he gave me a pep talk and made me take that first step.
3. I had no idea what a picky eater he was for a long time because when we were dating and I cooked for him he would try everything.
4. After my HSG he brought me home and put me to bed and then gave me lunch, Loritab and Ben and Jerry's Karmal Sutra. In that order.
5. During out pre-marriage counseling the pastor asked us about whether we were planning to have more kids. Before I could say anything he said, "It would be great, but we have an amazing daughter already."
6. He took care of his mom - doing her laundry and mowing her lawn and hauling things around for her. Even when she was horrible to him. Even at the end when it must have been painful for him to even walk.
7. He always made an effort to be sweet to Bean... even at the end.
8. The day we got married he stood on the other side of the wall from me and held my hand until it was time to start.

OK. That's all I can do today. I loved him, and losing him to his mental illness and alcoholism was the hardest, most horrible thing I have ever gone through. But I miss him. I miss the life we could have had - should have had.