So much can change in just a few days.
My last post was a long complaint about job-hunting. The countless job applications, resumes, cover letters, dead ends. But now I’m nervously preparing for an interview on Monday morning at a marketing firm! What a refreshing change, hahaha. I am keeping my hopes in check because this is just an interview, but I’ve at least got my toes crossed. Tomorrow I will try on my suit and attempt to put together a nice business professional outfit. I am even considering picking up some makeup at the pharmacy. I lost almost all of the makeup I owned (not a whole lot, but everything I could ever need) somewhere between moving from Virginia to Wisconsin last summer. And anything I didn’t lose was lost between Wisconsin and Maryland when I moved last October. Now all I have is a tube of red lipstick and some clear mascara. I don’t really mind wearing makeup, but it’s usually not my thing. I think I’ll wear a little bit to this interview, though.
And speaking of moving, that’s precisely what Steph and I are going to be doing really soon. Really soon. Possibly by the beginning of March, but hopefully not until the end of it. The house we’re in now is being foreclosed on. The landlord didn’t bother warning Steph or Leslie; we only found out because the bank sent the tenants documents in the mail about what is happening. If it was just Steph, Leslie and I moving out, we would have at least a few months to figure out a new living situation. But their friend Jenn is also looking for a new place and since it would 1) save us all a lot of money, and 2) get us a much nicer place, we are all (tentatively) planning on moving together. Jenn’s lease is up at the beginning of April, so…we have very little time.
As you can imagine, this is very nerve-wracking, especially since I’m still unemployed. So it’s hard keeping my hopes about the interview in check, because I really, really, really need that job. And I have no idea when I might hear from anyone else. Steph is consumed with anxiety, which she isn’t as accustomed to as I am. Unfortunately, finding the perfect place for all of us is going to be difficult. Everyone has specifications that they don’t seem willing, yet, to compromise on. It’s the beginning of the search, but we have so little time that we are going to meet this week to hash things out. People are requiring a backyard, air conditioning, a finished basement; people are stating we can live in this neighborhood but no, no, we can’t live in that one because it isn’t my scene or someone told us not to or I don’t want to have to drive that far to work.
And perhaps the worst thing of all is that none of these requirements are ridiculous. They are all rational and important. We have to have a finished basement for Jenn and her cats, since Cracker doesn’t get along with other felines. Steph has been talking about central AC for years and the summers here are humid and gross and the idea of spending it in a house with four women, a huge boxer, and three cats with no air sounds horrific. Akira (the boxer) needs a yard or a nearby park, and we have to be careful about choosing a safe neighborhood. All of these requirements (except perhaps the ‘no I can’t live there, it’s not my scene’ bit) are understandable and valid. But they’re going to make the search more difficult.
I don’t have any requirements that I won’t compromise on because everyone else seems to have them covered, but I’m not going to lie: I am wishing hard for, with my toes and fingers painfully crossed, a washer and dryer. Currently I visit my best friend and her husband every couple of weeks in West Virginia, and when I go, I lug all of our laundry with me to do at her house. They assure me that it’s no problem and I am always welcome to their washer and dryer, but it still makes me feel like an asshole. I’m looking forward to visiting my best friend again without the backseats and trunk of my car filled with dirty laundry.
In the midst of all of this, I don’t think anyone would be surprised if I was wracked with daily anxiety attacks and nightly nightmares, but I’ve been unusually calm about everything. I’ve been focusing on helping Steph deal with her stress and anxiety, and I suppose I’m used to moving and things changing rapidly. I am definitely worried sick about my lack of employment, but I was worried sick about it two days ago, two weeks ago, two months ago…it’s nothing new. I’m definitely feeling a little down that Steph and I can’t afford to get our own place right now, but I’m not beating myself up about it. I’ve been putting myself out there, applying regularly to who knows how many places, and if I’m not financially ready to help pay for a one-bedroom, I’m not ready. There’s really nothing I can do about it, and I’ve accepted it.
Damn, I’m handling this really well so far. I’m going to pat myself on the back, drink a glass of milk, and get ready for bed.
I live a riveting life, I know. (That was sarcasm, okay?)