In which I become passionate about the Shift key

Shift Key eh? (Photo credit: djking)

You know, it’s turned into a very long job search. I’m probably going to go back to school and become an Occupational Therapist, because I don’t know of (m)any other way(s) to get a fresh start. (Not the only reason, naturally.) It took me all this time just to get my head back on straight – in fact, it’s still a little bit askew most days — and I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to explain the gap to a potential employer.

But that’s not the only reason it’s been so difficult for me to find something. Somewhere along the line, I’ve lost all tolerance for the lies we tell ourselves, or our employers tell us, about work. (Bear in mind that I’m looking for a job as a writer or editor, so I could very easily be the one writing this corporate drivel.)

Tonight I came across a great example of what I’m talking about in this job ad:

we are looking for a writer that puts ideas before everything else. someone who is passionate about building a brand more than doing a super cool one-off tv spot. someone who gets excited about writing in a myriad of different mediums. someone who probably doesn’t use the word myriad. someone who can be funny or serious or seriously funny. someone who loves strategy as much as ads and interactive and packaging. someone who will obsess over making a complicated idea seem simple. someone who’s not freaked out by seo and sem is a plus. someone who does not have an ego of any sort but has been doing great work long enough (4.75+ years) to justify one. and finally, someone who can write these recruiting ads so we don’t have to.

Finally, an update

I’ll make this fast and to the point. Well, at least as much as I am capable of that, since that’s not really my strong point. I’ll try to stick to just the bare facts …

So, I finally left the boyfriend around the end of September/beginning of October. There was a big ol’ fight and he was threatening to kill himself and I didn’t know how seriously to take it, so I called the cops because he was so out of control. (He didn’t remember anything he said or did the next day, so I rest my case.) Long story – I wrote something about it on paper. I might find it and post it here some time.

And yes, there wasn’t anywhere to go except to my parents. Which is where I am now. It’s been pretty ugly. I’ll get into that sometime too. I know that many people would feel like this is a change to start over or something. Those people do not know my mother. I love her, but I cannot be the one she takes all of her frustrations out on. I don’t have much self-esteem as it is; she just can’t keep chipping away at it. I know she thinks I am irresponsible, immature and stupid. Fine, whatever. Just don’t yell at me about it. And maybe give me a chance every now and then. Possibly, even listen to what I say when I try to explain instead of jumping right in with the insults.

Whatever.

A letter to Bf, because that’s what I inadvertently wrote

Image via Wikipedia

So, I meant to sit down and write a list of things we need to figure out since the little girl who stayed here with me last summer will be coming back starting next week. It turned into some kind of strange letter to my boyfriend.

How do I know what to do in July? I don’t even know what to do this weekend!

This is a rough post. Normally, I write a draft, then spend an hour or so cleaning it up so it’s fit to read. But this one … well, it started out as a letter to the online advice columnist at The Rumpus, Sugar. It might still be eventually. I decided to share it here because I think I was able to get at the issues a little better than usual, and I’m afraid that if I clean it up, I’ll wind up cutting something that needs to be here. If the post sounds like I’m overwhelmed, believe me, I am, and I simply cannot believe I let it go on and on to even reach this point, and that I’m still doing so. I feel like I’m mired in a tar pit, which can actually be kind of comfortable if you don’t think about it much and don’t struggle against it.

Let me just add that Father’s Day has been damned awkward since I was eight years old, and in all the intervening years it hasn’t gotten any better. Then again, Mother’s Day was so much fun this year, why should I expect anything different?

15 more days

The Boy finally had his day in court and actually saw the judge. His PO requested 3 days of incarceration; the judge looked at his school attendance record and felt 10 would be more appropriate. (When he went in for three days the last time, there was a 10-day suspended sentence, so I thought all along he would get those 10 days.) The Boy told the judge, in the immortal words of Cee-Lo, “Fuck you,” and got five more days. So at least he won’t miss any more school this academic year, since they bring the school to you in juvie. (How would you spell that? Juvey? Juvvie?)

Get on the bus

So, I’m still here. Yeah.

A lot has happened. Really a lot. But I haven’t written about it, because sometimes I think that by writing about it, I dwell on it, and that’s no good for me.

Besides, Dr. Oz told me this morning that if you’re cranky you should take omega 3 supplements, so maybe that’s all I need to do.

Found art

I was looking for images to use with my post last night, and put the phrase “Making plans to leave” into Google Image Search. I got numerous results, but this one was so striking I had to share it, even if it’s wasn’t particularly relevant to my post topic. (I was going to put it up last night, but the storm struck and the power went out, and I had to walk away from the computer.)

I found the image on the illustrator’s Wordpress blog, but I think it is out of date. His new website seems to be here, and his new weblog here.

A new plan

So, I packed my car full of clothes and left this afternoon. Don’t get too excited, because I came back. See, I didn’t really know where I was going, and wandering around A.C. Moore got boring and tiring really quickly. My mother didn’t really sound very supportive when I called her, so I didn’t want to go there.

Met Bf for dinner to really talk about things, and he surprised me by being very reasonable about it. Given that all my attempts to leave abruptly  have come to naught, I’m going to try something different this time, and we’re jointly making plans to separate by July 1. (That’s how I ended my marriage, and it worked then, so there’s some precedence.) More on the plans later on in this post, and then even more once we finalize them, because if I share them you can hold me accountable.

Afternoon update

Still (physically) shaking from last night’s encounter. Trying to get some rest so I can think about this more clearly. Right now the only alternative I can see is trying to go to my grandfather’s house again, but I’m sill getting hung up on not being able to have a pet. I need some kind of company!

I just don’t know if I can do it, or if moving there will make whatever semi-breakdown thing I’ve got going on even worse.

Going to take some Advil and some Mucinex, try to catch a nap, hopefully wake up a little more steady and thinking more clearly.

Sis kept yelling about me not getting that her dad and the kids are a package deal. She doesn’t understand that what I’m struggling with is rejecting the entire package, and that her father tells me I don’t have to do that, but I don’t know if I believe him. (I think he probably means it, but I don’t know if he can stick to it for longer than a few weeks.) And if I do leave, it will be a shock to them all when they realize how much I contribute financially – you know, when there’s no cell phone service for them or their dad, no cable tv, no internet, and Bf and anyone living with him move to his parents instead of a nice big house. That’ll be a life changing event for sure.

Is the saddest part that this officially means I’m giving up on the kids? Or on Bf? Or on myself and my ability to improve the situation? I don’t know, but it’s a struggle.

Really? This is how it ends?

I’ve really fucked up now. Or I’ve really been fucked up, I don’t know. It’s late – it’s after midnight – and the Bf and I have been on the road since something like 10 a.m. driving home from Delaware. So I don’t have a whole lot of time to get into details, although I do have the inclination to do so.

At least two of his kids, and a cousin, would cheerfully slit my throat right now. Suffice it to say that after all the times I bit my tongue and let them get by with maligning me and acting like idiots, I was too tired to do so tonight. I am not being over dramatic. In fact, I am considering restraining orders against the eldest, at least.

Click below to read more about the greatest Mother’s Day ev-ah!