Jobs and the City

Lately I have been having a hard time putting together one, complete thought and stringing it together with colorful words with a great sense of comedic timing. While I may have a lot of free time, physically, my mind is running rampant with thoughts, ideas, fears, wishes, dreams, etc., etc., etc. I have found that when I don’t have something to occupy my time, my brain goes in overdrive and it really takes a toll on my physical self -- correction, it paralyzes the physical self into doing the bare minimum tasks of feeding one’s face with ice cream, and moving one’s thumb and forefinger to change the channel. So, you see, it is all a vicious circle that I can’t seem to step out of.

I am not sure if it is the fact that I am pregnant, or that I lost my job, or both that I am freaking out so much. I suppose that most people don’t have the chance to experience both simultaneously. Although, being an empathetic and sympathetic person, I am sure that my situation is not unlike other people’s lives. It’s just that being pregnant and unemployed are my two “issues” or “stressors,” if you will.

For example, I was watching “Sex and the City” one night in bed at 11 p.m., to the great disdain of my semi-sleeping husband. (I do my best to put the volume at 3, but I just love to watch TV in bed. Sue me). I love watching that show, mostly for the pure fact that I can escape in its fabulous fashions and hairstyles and the four heroines extravagant lives.

This particular episode was about Carrie starting to date again (for those of your familiar with SATC, she was starting to date Burger). While the chirpy and extremely posh gals were chatting over lunch in the diner, she made the comment about how she loves the feeling of hope right before a date, for the fact that it can lead to many possibilities. You know, that feeling of promise that you can only have of the unknown. Of course because of the super analytical phase that I am in, I immediately identified to her situation, except applied it my world of Midwestern, middle-class, married life.

What I came up with is that Carrie and I are not so different. Her elusive man is my elusive job. Her dates are my interviews. Her Manolo Blahniks are my J. Crew flip flops. I have the same feeling after I interview for a job. It is such a great rush after you have a promising interview. The job could possibly be yours! For that moment in time, you are on cloud nine and you feel as though you can go ahead and buy those flowers at Lowe’s, because, gosh darn it, that paycheck is coming soon.

So, here I am, sitting on another cloud after another interview. With every job interviewed for and subsequent rejection letter, I become a little wiser, a little poorer and a little more in touch with my inner Carrie. Hopefully, that is a good thing.