Funk You

I’ve been no stranger to rejection in my life – college applications, softball team, lovers, and financial loans. I’ve also had my share of job rejections, but the wound was torn open, a lemon wedge smashed in and salt thrown on top. If only it was a margarita I could drink away the pain.

I was just informed today that the remaining hope of a new job was given to another applicant who had more experience in the search engine optimization field and would be able to hit the ground running. But I will be kept in mind if another position opened up where they had time to train me or if they hear of a project management position from any of their colleagues. Sigh. Now it’s back to square one.

I am so filled with desperation that sometimes I have to fight to keep from crying, but sometimes I lose. Yesterday at a neighbor’s wedding I teared up, not just because it was a wedding and that’s what you do, but because I saw this girl who I used to babysit, standing there looking beautiful and so happy in her white gown, her whole life ahead of her full of possibilities. In contrast, I was alone, jobless, more flabby than I care to think about and getting more and more depressed about the future state of my financial affairs. How long could I afford to be out of work? Would I have to take a severe paycut from my previous jobs? Would I have to go back to waiting tables? Would I need to sell my house? Do I have to move back in with my parents? The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to cry.

I am lost and scared and I don’t know what I need to do. I’ve been sending out tons of resumes through Monster job boards and I think I’ve exhausted scouring the yellow pages for nearby agencies. I look for free methods of entertainment. Last Friday I went into Princeton just so I can hear the live bands that perform outside of Thomas Sweets. I visit libraries instead of buying from Barnes & Noble. I cook instead of eating out and I can’t allow myself to buy anything that isn’t absolutely necessary. The unemployment checks don’t cover my mortgage and the monthly bills so I’m forced to take out of savings and that bothers me. I know that’s what the savings account is there for, but it feels like I’m unraveling the threads of my security blanket. I can’t even enjoy the fantasy of taking off and escaping it all because the cost behind it takes away any enjoyment.

Barry has been my only comfort. He’ll lay next to me and lick my face as if to tell me that everything will be all right. He’s my main reason for waking up – so he can go out to pee. I even look forward to his walks because it means that I’ll get out of the house for some exercise and sunshine. Plus, I’m always on the lookout for a handsome man walking his dog who I can casually meet.

I need to get out of this funk. This miserable experience is affecting my mood, my health and quite possibly my chances of employment.