I’m feeling under the weather today. I got my first job rejection email (it’s nice to know at least). I knew I was under qualified for this one but it was good practice and it motivated me to get going. I was thinking if I had a job I would have gone to work and I’d have felt better once I got busy. A cold is annoyingly symptomatic and I find myself feeling worse than usual and languishing around the house because I don’t have to be at work. I’d rather be at work.
My bestie asked me to proof-read her resume, I seem to be good at that. Not necessarily for punctuation but word usage. Punctuation is instinctual for me rather than factual I’m afraid. Anyway…I’m looking at her work history and I start to feel nauseous. It’s a freakin monument of accomplishment! Page after page of perfection. And she has earned every stripe. I can’t help but feel overwhelmed. Mine is not even close. I start to what if? What if they won’t interview me because I haven’t lived here long, what if they don’t interview me because I didn’t finish college, (I went to the life-experience-no-diploma college) what if I’m too this or not enough of that? It can beat you up.
Most everyone has been here, some more than others in today’s economy. It is brutal. Then I start the “but” game. I can move to where a job is…BUT how will I do it? I have a friend that would always answer back “What about your BUT”? What about MY but? You’ve got to face it down! Life is full of buts and what ifs. If I allow myself to give in to the doubts I’d never bother getting out of bed. If I only focus on the fear I will only feel scared. If I only focus on what I don’t have or haven’t done I will only feel insecure. It is a constant battle of wits, and I’m determined to win.
It could always be worse (I had a friend that said that too), I could be the beautiful Lily Bart who is dependent on a disapproving aunt for the roof over her head. Her prospects are disappearing before her eyes and the outrageous social manners of her day begin to work against her. Luckily I don’t have the burden of being beautiful and living with a crotchety aunt. I think I’ll read more of my book. The “it could always be worse, I could be Lily Bart in The House of Mirth” book.
I am fortunate to have supportive family and loved ones in my adventure/transition to a life in the stunning Pacific North West. Maybe I’ll try…it could always be better! Yeah, I like that better.