I'm writing this entry all free-wheelin' and un-proof-read, something I never do, after crying myself to sleep last night, something else I never, ever do. Because I am one hot mess these days. I have just had the most craptastic stretch of days in memory, which included (but were not limited to): a mother-in-law with food poisoning; paying thousands of dollars to the federal govermenment because apparently, hey! we're rich; a father-in-law incapable of dealing with the sick mother-in-law; my mother-in-law, father-in-law AND sister-in-law all staying in our 1 bedroom apartment for an extended weekend; said weekend being ruined by food poisoning; Easter dinner party cancelled; terrible, violent, achy, fever-ridden flu which I developed on Tuesday; sister-in-law's flight back to Ohio cancelled due to weather on same Tuesday; spending Tuesday alone with sister-in-law while deathly ill; inability to find a job; or get an interview; or, apparently, a clue; realization that when husband goes to business school I need to provide health benefits for us; more job panic and desperation; hey! I feel fat; and ugly!; I hate my hair; dog ate $250 Sigerson Morrison heels; WAH WAH WAH why is everyone else's life working out and I am stuck in one place and in a dead-end job and did I make some terrible mistake years ago and am now doomed to live career-less and unsatisfied for all of time and why am I now coveting jobs that 5 years ago I wouldn't have considered because they were too junior and paid too little and how on earth did I get here and how will I ever get out and I hate all my clothes and would it kill me to get a manicure or a bikini wax every now and then?
Whine, bitch, moan, repeat.
I'm a mess. And I need a job. Even if it weren't a matter of money or health insurance, I have realized that I NEED a job - no, a CAREER. I need it, for me. A free spirit, I ain't. I am a structured, organized, compulsive, hard-working, regimented spirit. And I needs me a cubicle!! I was watching Friends last night (pathetic! if Friends makes you upset!) and stupid fake character Rachel got a call from a headhunter and I cried because why isn't anyone calling meeeee???????
Whine, bitch, moan, repeat.
Sorry, y'all. I've been so sick/annoyed with visiting in-laws/frustrated that I haven't even really turned on the computer all week. I just haven't cared, haven't written a thing, blah blah blah. I hate being 28.
Whine, bitch, moa-...oh, you know the rest.
