Patience and a bottle of tums

It's been 46 days of unemployment. Six and a half weeks of sleeping in, facebooking too much, counting pennies and searching ...searching ...searching for employment. A month and a half of dwindling self confidence and listening to the news tell me how difficult it is to find a job. AS IF I DON'T KNOW. As if I can't see the numbers in my bank account getting smaller.

It's all about patience and having a bottle of tums nearby. But my patience is running thin and my bottle of tums is almost empty. And I can't afford to buy more.

I've applied for approximately 75 jobs at this point and learned that most businesses don't have the courtesy to even acknowledge your application. I have had nine interviews. I've been told that I'm overqualified, underqualified and one that said they couldn't hire me because a piece of paper told them that I am an "at risk" employee. AT RISK. Because obviously I am one to lie, cheat and steal my way through life.

Today I had an interview. The second for this particular position. I put my heart and soul into it; even spent an hour of my birthday ironing out my uber-professional skirt suit. It went well - not great - but well enough that I see a glimpse of hope that my phone will ring sometime between tomorrow and Friday with an offer I can't refuse. Please, puuuuh-lease don't let there be a rejection email instead of that phone call. I would really rather not have to resort to selling my organs to afford some ramen.

TO BE CONTINUED...