The Worst Job Ever

The worst job ever is finding a job. That is what they tell me. They are right. It sucks. Even in the best of all possible circumstances (which I am in), it sucks. The good things are real and tangible - church support, friends and family excited and encouraging, endless resources to utilize, tons of job leads and people willing to put their name on the line to help me. The bad things are imagined and hover like ghosts; crushing the good under tidal waves of fear and despair. I never realized that working, even if I didn't like it, kept me from many harmful things such as the muscles in my back trying to rearrange themselves into intricate knots or the subconscious desire to eat until I look like Jabba the Hutt.

I feel exhausted from searching but also from chasing Sheridan, who now crawls everywhere with the sole intent of putting everything in the house in her mouth. This gives me no stress whatsoever as this period of crawling happens to coincide with the cat beginning to explore turd deposits on the carpet, vomiting in new locales, and my personal favorite, peeing right out the front of the litter box into a foul puddle of clumpy litter-whiz. Try and guess which of the two will still live with us in six months.

I do have an interview with Mojobrand this week so I'll let you know how that goes...