Wednesday, July 30, 2008

On Being Less Crazy

So lately, I'm always nervous.

And this isn't one of those 'always' modifiers that is hyperbolic - I'm quite literally nervous every second of every day. Even in my sleep, my teeth are grinding themselves down into little flat cubes while my brain works overtime. So much so that I'm actively considering getting a mouth guard to rescue them. Except I'm too poor to get a fancy fitted one from a dentist, so I'm talking about one that you would normally see attached to a football helmet. I'm still all manners of classy, you see.

The cause of all this paralyzing nervousness is mostly job related. Once upon a time, the mortgage industry was stressful and full of very high maintenance people but it was always guaranteed to be there, all solid and professional. I mean, people always need houses, right? Heh, yeaahhhhh, not so much.

Now, in the past 4 months, I have had three separate scares wherein my office was closing, and I had about 10 days to find new employment in an industry that is downsizing so wildly that my contacts portfolio is now 1/8 the size it was 6 months ago. Each one of these announcements was eventually rescinded in the face of hopefulness for the future, but not before I had personally spent enough money on Tums to keep the antacid industry solvent for at least the rest of the decade. The fact that I still have my same job is a good testament to the tenacity of the people in our office, but also is a sign that we're more than a little insane (see also: the unholy tic that I've developed in my lower left eyelid).

In any case, though, I keep a vigilant watch over the job market, on the odd chance that I can jump to a more stable ship. One less likely to cause a psychotic break, for instance. Or maybe one that didn't toy with my emotions like a sadistic game of musical chairs.

But it's weird how exhausting just the idea of job hunting can be. I mean, my tribulations with the application process are well documented (probably on this blog, for that matter), but in my mind, I remember it mostly as a lot of embarrassing but funny little anecdotes. In the new harsh reality of today, I'm no better at interviews now than back then, only I've developed the nervous tic of calling everyone in the world Sir, like I'm goddamn Marcie from Peanuts.

This is not my beautiful post-college life.

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All that said, though, I'm moving on. I'm employed for a least another month, and I fully resolve to be less of a basket case this month. I'm going back to the old ways - blogging in my spare time, rather than rocking back and forth in a little ball on my bed, going out for drinks in the afternoon instead of trolling Monster.com for alternate careers that don't involve a collapsing housing market and the cannibalization of the banking industry. Socializing with real, live, humans!

This will be my month, dammit. I will be fun. And willful. And confident. And possibly (probably) very drunk for most of it.

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Although I do wish I had picked a less offensively hot month to be mine. It's gotta be like, 107 degrees outside right now. Even if I had a mouth guard, it would probably be a little puddle of plastic by now.

See?!

Finally, something that's sort of a positive.

Totally my month.

Watch out, world.

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