It’s been a long time since I’ve posted, even longer since I’ve posted regularly. Job hunting, it seems, has taken over my life — especially the online version. How can I possibly whine, express fear, doubt myself or question my motivation if a potential hirer can see it?
It’s yet another reflection of the rabid narcissism fueled by my social mediast view that people care about what I post, what I tweet, what I’m thinking about. Other than a kind few, I know it’s not the case.
But what if I’m wrong? What if some HR person has a fancy, IT friend who can invade my semi-anonymous space? I shudder to think about what they’d find.
So with that, life in Jcrewville putters on. There’s a new crop of pretty, divorced moms that popped up with the warm weather. They’re out-and-about losing weight, drinking martinis in their skinny jeans and nail polish. The bloated, tired and overwhelmed moms in town (okay, me) are getting angry. Or maybe jealous. Not of the divorce, of course — that’s hideous — but of watching them breeze in-and-out of happy hours laughing and smelling of pefume. I can only imagine them going home on a childless evening and grabbing takeout, downloading a movie and sleeping in — all done with fresh highlights and a pedicure. Or maybe they’re being courted with compliments, witty conversation, and flowers.
Yeah, I know I’ve got other beautiful, fulfilling, deeper parts of a life for which I’m grateful. But with all this April rain, non-stop school stuff and children begging for EVERYTHiNG, I find my mind drifting to greener grass.
Gross. See what I mean ? Would you hire me?