So things here in jobless land aren’t exactly what I was promised in the fairy tales. It seems like every time I try to get going on figuring out what my next career will be, something blocks my progress with a giant boulder and I’m left in a rat infested tunnel with only the flashlight app on my Samsung Galaxy. But whatever, I’ve gotten through worse things, I think.
Yesterday was a peculiar day. I woke up in a pretty good mood, and had made plans a day earlier to have breakfast with my mom, nephew and sisters… sans Hooch, who is still in Bambalamba (not sure how it occurred, but it’s how we refer to Alabama in my family. Probably sounds much more degenerate that the actual state name). When Hooch moved there, Alaina had this made (after countless hours of southern stereotyping):
I hope no one from Bambalamba reads and is offended by this.
Anyway, as usual, I got up, got in the shower and got ready for breakfast. I was in kind of a hurry, since I spent too much time yesterday morning going on about my TV binge watching here (got through three more Game of Thrones episodes last night… OMG). I chose an outfit, which I immediately discarded once I looked in the mirror. Then I went to plan B, C, … and eventually just sat down and considered calling in sick. But I couldn’t, cause I don’t have a job… and calling in sick to a breakfast date with your family is probably going to catch you more flack.
So I sat there and stared at my feet.
Ok. This is the definition of “white person/first world” problem. “Pull yourself together,” I told myself. And I looked around the room and the chaos I had created while choosing what NOT to wear. Sigh. I finally selected a T-shirt and jeans and was on my way (without looking in the mirror again).
I hate this feeling of vulnerability. This is my family. Who cares what I look like/am wearing? No matter how smart I am, how great a mood I was in the day before, how tough I think I can be… there are just certain triggers that leave me feeling deflated, like poorly whipped egg whites in an angel food cake. It makes all the progress I’ve made pushing that giant boulder out of the sewer entrance come rolling back at me… at least I can see the graffiti on the walls with my smart phone flashlight.
I walked into breakfast and everyone was already there. First thing out of Alaina’s mouth, “Do you buy your clothes at baby gap?” For the love of God, I’ve gained six pounds since I left my job!
Breakfast was fine, delicious in fact. Alaina and I spent a significant amount of time discussing what had occurred in the most recent Game of Thrones episodes I had watched, and my nephew spent a significant amount of time trying to crawl under the table. I headed home an hour later with the intention of continuing my career change process.
But the egg whites were deflated, and sliding back into the sewer like a puddle of melted ice cream. I had lost all of my motivation, and it wasn’t even noon yet. Full of carbs and calories from breakfast, I decided the only solution was a nap. Maybe I’d wake up feeling better.
I didn’t. I woke up to my phone freaking out about a few text messages. Then I was pissed at myself for not silencing my phone before my nap. Then I looked at the clock at it was almost 3pm… and I hadn’t done anything but be a waste of a human being all day.
So instead of getting my shit together and being productive, I turned to AnnasWasteofTimeMachine… also known as Facebook/Candy Crush/WordPress. Then I text my husband and told him we were going out for dinner, because I’m a shitty wife and didn’t go to the grocery store, want to cook, or do anything else worth a damn. Going out to dinner usually cheers me up, and did a bit last night.
Today has to be better. I’ve just gotta figure out ways to combat the boredom that sets in at times, and not let the LITTLEST of inconveniences ruin my day. Husband’s band (check them out here) is playing a show at Mill City Nights tonight, which means he’ll be gone… but I made plans to go out with friends for the evening, so it can’t be all bad. I just want a fairy godmother that solves all of my problems for me (yes, even the first world/white people ones).