Cover letters and other lies

I have applied for at least twenty jobs in the last couple of weeks. My neighbor is a writer and he asked me yesterday if I was doing any writing. I told him only if cover letters count, and they should--they drain my creative juices in a big way. (They make me feel cheap and dirty, too, but that's another issue--I never have liked the whole "sell yourself" paradigm.)

The job I've wanted the most thus far got a cover letter I would be forced to deem a masterpiece. After its completion, I made my Facebook status "if I believe the cover letter I just wrote about myself, I would not only hire me, I would marry me, clone me and leave me everything in the will."

My initial unemployment claim was denied because I didn't have enough hours in the base year. (The base year was funky and took place between 2008 and 2009. I don't get how they determine the base years and I'm not going to try--I get enough headaches as it is.) I have a pending appeal using an alternate, more recent base year. I'm keeping detailed records--the required job logs, printouts of job descriptions, etc. I spent $10.89 today to send a long-distance fax at Kinko's--it seemed a little steep, but I guess they have rent to pay, too. I haven't had any more interviews since the one I went on before my job ended, but I have found a few nice things to wear to interviews, which will definitely help with my confidence when I am called for another one.

This evening is the information session about the technical writing program I plan to attend. I'm trying not to be intimidated or freaked out, but I am a little of each. What if I go and I don't want to do it? Then, of course, there is everyone's favorite old friend--The Fear of Failure. I think the worst part of not working is that I have far too much time to sit around and ruminate. I have gotten a lot of home organization and important errands done and can come up with several other projects that need doing, but there's an awful lot of time left over to think. I hate feeling so adrift in my life.

I'm not gaining weight, but my ankle has been giving me fits so I haven't walked since last week. I did do part of an exercise DVD yesterday; I have a number of them, from Richard Simmons to Hip Hop Abs and a couple I got at Target that prominently feature perky women wearing bronzer. Richard Simmons is over the top, but I can't help but like him; people who knock him should try one of his workouts (I have no opinion about his infomercials, I have never watched them or bought those products). (As an unrelated side note, his appearance on "Whose Line Is It Anyway?" was one of my favorite episodes of that show.) I'm still trying to find a bathing suit I can live with and have yet another one en route from Ebay--I think I have to get in a pool because every other kind of exercise just ends up hurting too much. A long walk feels great when I'm doing it, but then I wake up in excruciating pain during the night for the next week--it just isn't worth it. Mr. Salted and I have come to the conclusion that we will find the money for me to exercise in a pool, whether I have an income or not. I hope this suit works. I do miss, even enjoy, being in the water. (I will enjoy it even more now that I've had Lasik and won't be floundering around blind!) Before and after actually I'm in the water, that's what isn't so easy.

My third wedding anniversary was yesterday. Mr. Salted and I went to our favorite getaway last weekend, or tried to--we got there and discovered the reservations were for this coming weekend and that we had messed up the dates. It is a long drive both ways, so we decided to get a cheap room at the local Econolodge and just go back again this weekend and have two getaways instead of one. He is so supportive, steady, loving, unwavering--just an incredible gift in my life, for which I am extremely thankful.

I am losing weight again!

I saw 205.0 today on the scale--in the middle of the day, even. I may just see the 100s yet; I had just about given up, and the half-price Easter candy has been taunting me. It was especially gratifying because I weighed myself after a two-mile walk I had to force myself to go on in the cold wind. I've found a nearby park with a paved trail--it has distance markers and is mostly level, so I'm sold. There were, of course, lots of healthy hotshot types out there--woo and also hoo--but I try not to actively (ha) hate them because they're "beautiful"--it isn't any better than them hating me because I'm "not". I was quite annoyed, however, by some old guy (he resembled Moses, beard and all) that rode his bike past me slowly, physically brushing me when he had plenty of room to go around. He then doubled back, rode by and said something to me when I was on my way back to my car, which I couldn't make out--the music was up loud, and I flat refused eye contact. (I wear sunglasses whenever possible, but it was raining on and off today.) I freely acknowledge that I am easily irritated, especially when exercising (I'm sure that completely shocks anyone who has been paying attention) and/or having my dance space invaded (ditto). I also managed to organize my clothes and accessories, find a sports bra that fit at Target (it cost about 25% of what I've usually had to pay--go figure!), get laundry done, apply for a job, and talk to the unemployment people on the phone. They don't know if I'm going to qualify yet. I go to that informational evening class about the technical writing certificate next week, which also marks my third anniversary with Mr. Salted. I love losing weight!!!!

Everything, all the time

My job ended. My grandmother got moved, and it sounds like it was a really tough experience for her, but that she is bouncing back a bit now. At any rate, she has a lot of support around her where she is, and it's a relief to know that. I didn't get the job I interviewed for, but they asked if they could keep my contact information for one they may have coming up. I spent my first day unemployed doing a lot of laundry, then attending a singalong showing of "Purple Rain" with a childhood friend. The movie was even worse than I remembered--but the music is, of course, amazing. It was a lot of fun. I also indulged in a little retail therapy with my last full paycheck. I went to Torrid and was pleasantly surprised that I'm now wearing size 18 in their pants, rather than straddling the barbed-wire fence between 18 and 20. I got a great pair of black Bermuda shorts with a big sugar skull design on one leg that I l-o-v-e. I had my picture taken with the Easter bunny for the first time, just for the hell of it.

I still need to apply for unemployment, but I think right now I'm just having the letdown period where I want to lay low and regroup--so I'll do it Monday.

Saturday 9: Hurts So Good

1. Tell us about the last time you really got hurt.

Physically? Emotionally? By someone else, or myself? It sounds like a copout, but I need more specifics.

2. What's your oldest possession?

A couple of antique brooches and family photos.

3. Do you have any phobias?

Dolls, bees, and fire. I'm claustrophobic to an extent--hate tunnels. A lot.

4. What values did your parents instill in you?

I didn't have parents, but positive things that have been instilled along the way include: it feels good to do things for other people and be thoughtful, say please and thank you, work hard, appreciate what you have, and tell people you love them.

5. What are your plans for Easter?

Don't have any.

6. I like sun more than snow.

Not particularly true for me.

7. Tell us about 3 fads from your teenage years.
Swatch watches (never had one), huge perms (had too many), and way too many pastels, not to mention Bon Jovi.

8. Tell us what is the most important attribute in a lover.

Kindness. True kindness.

9. What new piece of technology have you resisted buying and what would it take for you to change your mind?

A plasma TV. I'll get one when the regular TV dies.

Let the angels sing.

I am off my plateau. Only by half a pound, but I am OFF IT!!!!!

I had a really good job interview yesterday, and I am SO done taking crap at the job I am winding up now. I popped off to a high mucky-muck who was being an over-the-top assclown yesterday and it felt good. Damn good. The person I popped off to is (a) not my boss and (b) will have nothing to do with giving me any kind of reference, and he was just being rude (as he always is), but 99.9% of the people who work there just keep their mouths shut when he does it because they fear for their livelihoods. It wasn't a personal attack of any stripe, I simply made an observation that happened to be true about our work area after he found fault with its cluttered appearance (and not for the first time in my presence). Since I have no livelihood after a week from tomorrow, I am at quarter of give-a-shit--and I giggled all day. (Why can't they put that feeling in a pill?)

Stick a fork in me, you know? The organization I am leaving reminds me of an abusive boyfriend. Employees stay for years and years because they get so beaten down, thinking they can't do any better and maybe someday things will change (in part because they are always hearing things will change, but the crises never end). Managers don't stay, and every few years the worker bees get to break in a new regime and the cycle starts all over again, a la Sisyphus.

Life is too short.

Hunger and kindness

I am getting hungry more often and eating larger portions (the largest portions being about a cup). I'm trying not to be paranoid about this--I have no desire to go back to full-blown eating-disorder-think, and I'm fairly certain I'm "normal" for seven months out from surgery. I don't keep a food journal at present (and I have no desire to, because it just feels punitive and therefore begs me to chafe against it), but I do try to keep a running tally throughout the day of approximate protein grams and calorie intake. I was told to try to stay at about 1500 calories a day, which I assume I am going to have to do for the rest of my life. Fine, fabulous, okay--I'm fine with that as long as I keep losing at some point. At present, I am still in plateau range, holding at 207-208 pounds--I have yet to see the scale go below 207. I'm only walking two days a week (about a mile at a time and at a brisk pace). I have the best of intentions in terms of stepping that up in the near future, but my ankle has been hurting quite a bit. With the stress of the next couple of weeks--job ending, interviewing and applying for new jobs, grandmother moving--I am not pressuring myself too terribly hard to make any extra changes until this month is over.

****

There is no quality in people (myself AND others) that I value more than kindness--actually, if I had to choose, it would probably be a tie between kindness and humor. After venting about wanting a technical writing certificate and how hard it would be for me to obtain it due to finances, a friend of mine offered to loan me the money--completely out of the blue. I was--AM--so touched, it is difficult to articulate my feelings.

I put myself through college (it took ten years for me to earn a B.A.; I started a Masters, but left after one quarter) with not one offer of financial help from anyone that I knew. It was a long, hard struggle--one I am still making payments on, but one I am also extremely proud of and wouldn't trade for anything in the world. I also hate (like fire) to borrow money or feel like I owe anyone for anything, EVER. However, this friend is the rare person it would not be awkward to accept a loan from. She cares about me, is generous and kind, and has no agenda whatsoever--I've known her for twenty years. (And seriously, on the whole, how often are we afforded such opportunities in life? Knowing people like this, knowing their hearts--it makes me a bit verklempt.)

I feel very calm, unusually Zen, about this particular situation. I think there are valuable lessons in it for me that go beyond "things happen for a reason". It's a telegram from the universe telling me once again to practice what I preach, in this case: when people are kind, it's okay to accept their kindness--and when they want to help, it's okay to accept their help. Acceptance of kindness and help does not make me less of a person--it invites me to become more of one. It opens my heart, it gives me hope, and it helps me to thrive so that I can put that much more positive energy and action out into the world.

Thank you.

Fatigued but strangely determined...

I am making myself go out and walk even though my ankle has been hurting. It was really hard to do this morning, and I celebrated by doing basically nothing the rest of today. My weight remains exactly the !@#$%^& same. Grrrrrrr.

I feel a microscopic bit better because I have a job interview scheduled. I'm not terribly excited about the job itself, but one does what one has to do. I'm waiting for my last tax form so I can get the taxes done and file a FAFSA. I'm going to find a way to get a technical writing certificate, no matter what I have to borrow or sell.