Aarrrggghhhhh

[katallison]

The fact that I've been quiet here the past week does not mean it's been a quiet week in Lake Wobegon. The inside of my head has been like a monkey cage, in fact, largely because on Friday a friend forwarded me a job opening that's -- well, it's Kat's Ideal Job, or as close as we're likely to get to such in this flawed cosmos. So ever since then I've been in a frenzy of resume-polishing and cover-letter-re-re-editing and stomach-churning dither. Because if by some fluke I were to get this job, it would mean uprooting my entire life and moving it halfway across the country, which is something I've been sort of toying with mentally for a while but hadn't actually come to grips with. And I'm really trying not to let myself get my hopes up because, even though on paper I've got all their essential and desired qualifications more than covered, I've also got the Inner Voice of Anxiety assuring me that at least seventy uber-qualified candidates are also applying, and all of them are younger and smarter than me and have more coherent work histories and better interview suits. And also the Voice of Depression is murmuring quietly, kindly, "You know you don't really deserve this. You know that what you want doesn't matter."

And then there's the whole issue of P., to whom I haven't yet mentioned this, and what it would mean for our relationship if I did get it. And then I start freaking about holy jesus how would I move my poor feeble senile cat across country? And then again with the You're not going to get it anyway, fool, so just shaddup.

So, basically I'm just dithering, and chewing my nails up to the wrist. None of this is aided by the fact that things at work have been highly stressful, due to malign internal-politics crap which isn't landing on me directly but is grinding up one of my most beloved colleagues. At this very minute I'm supposed to be making a kugel to bring to the office holiday potluck, but I really don't even want to go, because there are certain people I'd just as soon not see right now. (Why a kugel? I hear you ask, and it's because the theme for this potluck was "Bring a food item that starts with the same letter as your name." I had a brief evil moment of pondering a kohlrabi-kielbasa casserole, but relented.)

Anyway. I certainly won't hear anything back about the job until after Christmas, and, given the season, probably not until after New Year's, so I need to just settle the fuck down and resume coping with real life. I did buy my tree on Saturday, and got it in the stand, but haven't yet decorated it, so I need to do that tonight before P. comes over. I've ground out a few more paragraphs of story, but I really need to bear down, fix my eyes firmly on the finish line, and rally for the final push. I have a raft of work projects that need focused attention. I need to slap some duct tape over the mouths of both Anxiety and Depression, and get my head out of la-la-land and back in the game.

Comments

[halimede.livejournal.com]

sometimes the Fates have a sense of humor that make the Three Stooges look sophisticated.

gryphonri, would you mind if I added the above to my .sig file collection (attributed as you wish)?
I love how you put that!

Re: sig line

[rhi]

Sure, run with it. It's a variant on a comment in Barbara Hambly's _Dog Wizard_. Something to the effect of 'Sure God has a sense of humor, but I've seen more sophisticated ones in some bars I've been to.'

Re: sig line

[halimede.livejournal.com]

Thank you kindly! :)