It is Sunday once again. Why is it when we get older that the days/weeks/months go by faster and faster. I feel like I blink and a month has passed. It astounds me every week when I look around my house what havoc two humans and a dog could wreck in such a short amount of time. I spend hours cleaning our house, trying to rid it of dog hair, dust, and grime. Only to find that in a week span it has accumulated yet again-not only that but it looks like no one has cleaned in months. It seems like a tedious never ending process. No one is going to look back on their life and say; “Gee…I’m sure glad I spent all those hours chasing my family around with a Swiffer dry cloth”.
This was one of those rollercoaster weeks. In my last post I had just walked away from a second interview with the government office my contract company is employed by. When I walked out of that interview I thought it had gone great (other than my hiccup with the “what is your ultimate career goal” question). They told me before I left that they would be contacting me by the end of the week with their decision. Friday rolled around and still no word from their office. Last year, I interviewed with this same office for two different positions. I had also thought the meeting had gone very well. I knew the two ladies I interviewed with. I had great responses; they seemed to be confident in my skills. Then, it fizzled out. I still don’t know what happened. They mailed me a letter to tell me I hadn’t been selected, which I think is a rude let down. If someone takes the time off of work to come and be grilled by a panel interview then I feel like that person deserves a phone call to let them know that they weren’t selected.
Anyways, when they didn’t call me on Friday I felt like I knew that a similar letter was coming. I had a very strange reaction to this. I don’t know for sure I wasn’t selected but I still felt devastated. I called my Mom to talk things over. But my mother has a habit of butting in when she’s not wanted, and backing off when she is needed. When I called her up she was waiting on my Aunt to arrive from North Carolina; so to her benefit she was busy. I told her the situation and asked her opinion. “Do you think I didn’t get it?”, I asked with a huge lump in my throat. “I don’t know what I could’ve done differently…this is the exact same job I already do AND they all know me down there” I told her, trying to rationalize everything. She started to respond with an “I don’t know” but then I heard my Aunt come in the door. She still kept me on the phone for about 3 more minutes while talking to my Aunt until eventually I hung up the phone. Then I broke down into tears for literally 2 hours straight. Why you may ask? I have no idea. It wasn’t just a little cry either-it was a full on ugly, wail of a cry. And apparently I couldn’t stop. I cried when I picked up the dog at the dog daycare (don’t judge me), I cried under the covers until my husband got home, I cried even harder when he walked in the door. It was a full on pity party.
Eventually though I finally got out of bed and decided to join my husband for dinner with my in-laws. I didn’t want to go. I was terrified that I wouldn’t be able to even stop crying in front of his family. I was emotionally unstable that day. But I got out of that bed, fixed my hair, pulled my big girl pants on and tried to move on with my day. And I’m glad I did. Once again I was letting my career, or failure of one to define who I was. It had so consumed me that day that I couldn’t appreciate what I already have. So I had to say the mantra of all the things that I had over again. I have a wonderful husband who holds my hand while I sob and brings me water to make me feel better. I have a loving and supportive family (as flawed as they are) to cheer me up. I have a job that pays the bills for now, which is more than what some people have. I have a house, a dog, too much food to eat and clean water. I have so much to be thankful for and this is what I need to remember the next time I host a pity party for 1.
Once I got over this hump, the weekend was actually a great time. I spent a good amount of time with both of my nieces. I colored with chalk, had a conversation with my niece about the importance of sharing, and convinced my Dad to take a selfie. I ate a BBQ pulled pork sandwich the size of my face at a Food Truck Festival. I lost 14 dollars out of my pocket at this same festival but Karma won over when a very nice parking attendant let us out of the garage for free. I went on a few long walks and read most of a book today. I have to say that the good of this weekend outweighed the bad and reminded me of the things I should be focusing on. Now I can confidently say that even if I do receive that letter in the mail tomorrow I know that something else will come along I just need to keep trying.
A Weird Sort of Story 