I've been on a binge for the last few days. A job hunting binge. I only took a break to buy cleaning supplies and clean the apartment, which for me is like crack cocaine. More about this later. As I was saying, I have become fairly disillusioned with my job lately, for the sole reason that looking for a cure for cancer pays nothing. Well, almost nothing. Also, my landlord raised my rent, so ppblltthh... (verbal equivalent of sticking your tongue out). That pretty much clinches it, I thought, looking at my bills, and deciding to once again put off going to the dentist. HA! I've foiled the evil dental overlords again! I guess the situation isn't all bad... Oh crap. I think I feel a twinge in my tooth...
As I was saying, I've been on a resume/CV submission binge the last few days. I half expect to wake up in a ditch with a cover letter stuck to my face, toner streaks in my hair, clutching at vaguely relevant business cards, with no clue as to how I got there. I'm pretty sure there will be some form of wildlife chewing on my fingers, too, but this may be the pessimist rearing its ugly, depressing, non-potential realizing little head.
Also, I'm starting to have conversations in my head at night. It makes it hard to sleep.
"Must... Find... Job..."
"But you have a job, silly."
"Must... Find... Better job..."
"But you want to do a post-doc."
"Can't... Afford... School..."
"Live with it, you big goober. So you eat no-name macaroni for a few more years... wait a sec..."
"Hate... Macaroni..."
"Yeah, wait a sec, I hate it too! You should start looking for a better job."
"Shut... Up... Or... Get... Poked... With... Q-Tip..."
"Ha! You can't afford Q-Tips right now! Nyah, nyah! You're so poor! Ha!"
"Damn... It..."
Siiiigghhh.....
On the plus side, as I mentioned before, I got to clean the apartment yesterday. Those of you who know me know exactly how bizarrely happy this makes me. I was actually singing to myself while I was figuring out the best organizational layout for the storage cupboard. I think maybe it's time to change medications. But not until I get the storage locker downstairs. Oh, and before anybody offers, I do not enjoy cleaning other people's houses. Okay, yes I do. I really, really do. Ask K. Donovan. But I will not clean any one's house right now, until I clean my mom's. 'Cause I love her, and she makes me pancakes and criticizes my choice in men, and really, is there a better combination in life than a mom who loves you that much? You know what, maybe I can supplement my income by cleaning friend's houses. That will be a good use of the master's degree. And at least I'll have fun...