The past week or so has been pretty interesting around the homestead. I wanted to make sure it was water under the bridge before I truly blogged about it. I have a tendency to make light of situations that I honestly shouldn’t. As Elbert Hubbard said, “Don’t take life too seriously. You’ll never get out of it alive.”
Friday I received two calls from potential employers. The first call was from Tarleton University, where they told me they wanted me to seriously consider becoming a Student Recruiter, but as for the position I applied for… they filled it. He went into this elaborate plan to put me into a data entry position so I could make some money until Texas A&M took over in March and then I could move over to be a recruiter at a local community college. First and foremost, I suck at selling things. If it wasn’t for a pretty face and an overabundance of military personnel ready to spend every penny they were just paid, I never would have sold any replacement plans at my first retail job. It was easy to sell stuff at the restaurant because people WANTED what I was selling. Who doesn’t want a fishbowl full of alcohol? (And again, it helped with military payday and such…) When I’m presented with trying to push something on someone who didn’t come to me in the first place about what I had to sell, I fail miserably. Hence, the student recruiting position sounds a lot like my own personal slice of Hell. Thanks, but no thanks.
The job I’ve been working on getting since December, that I’ve gone to countless interviews with little or no warning and have even changed travel plans several times over because of… I get an email telling me that I wasn’t selected. Now, from a personal standpoint, if I was very well aware that a potential employee had changed travel plans (very COSTLY changes), I would have given them the courtesy of a phone call. And even still, if I had brought them in for no less than five interviews ranging from 15 minutes to 2 hours in length… a phone call would be the right thing to do. Obviously they deem it otherwise. I received a nice little form letter from Human Resources telling me to “continue to pursue other employment opportunities!” On Sunday night I rattled off a nice little email that mildly stressed my annoyance with such an impersonal send-off and asked for advice on how I could improve my presentation of myself in order to “score” a decent job. (To her benefit, she called me personally today and discussed why I was not selected. Turns out the woman they picked has a lot of experience in places I don’t. Personally, I think she just put out or something.
So, I had two pretty big blows just before another weekend of waiting. Nana almost lost her mind worrying about me, which of course drove me up a wall. She called hourly Friday night until after midnight my time. Just before I went to sleep she left me with a request in a wavering, unsteady voice: “Don’t do anything to hurt yourself.”
It has to be so debilitating to constantly worry about whether or not your child/grandchild is going to take their own life. Especially when that child is an adult and lives 1200 miles away from you and is going through (as Karev from Grey’s Anatomy calls it) a “rough patch.”
In all honesty, there was a time. There were a lot of times a long time ago. Those ended a little over four years ago. It doesn’t even occur to me anymore because… well, who would take care of Lucky? Who could give him the quality of life that I can? It sounds so strange, but I really had nothing holding me here until him. We’re all driven by certain motivators. Many people have the family motivation… they don’t want to let their mother/father/sisters/brothers/nieces/nephews/etc down. They have a support system. They have someone they want to stay here to be with. Until four years ago, everyone I wanted to be with was already dead. Everyone I felt that I should have been depending on for support were clinically depressed as well.
As may be expected, the news of my epic failure on the one job that I had been so excited about the opportunities and experiences it would give me… sent my grandparents into a panic. But I went another route… I went the creative road.
I spend most of Saturday in a craft store getting some cheap supplies for crafts. I’m picking my 365 back up. I’m going to do a creative journal. I’m going to continue making APC’s and maybe get involved in some swaps. I might finally open that Etsy shop I’ve been talking about for the past year. I’m working on my novel. I’m going to keep hoping that one of these jobs comes through for me and its more than I ever dreamed it could be.