Don't quit your day job, kid!

Confusion is a word we have invented for an order which is not understood.
--Henry Miller--

Not understood is an understatement. Confusion doesn't even begin to describe it.

Didn't sleep well last night, which wasn't helped by my husband waking me up. I'm not sure why he does it. Maybe I sleep with my eyes open or something and he thinks I am awake. He left and I got a little snooze before the birdman came running into my room all guns blazing. Potty for both of us, then he wanted to brush his hair because I brushed my hair. Off to the kitchen for breakfast and now here I am on my um, third cuppa joe.

So, I didn't get the job. So, um, yeah, fuck me. I keep thinking about Derek from Stepbrothers when he says," It's not about money? Well, for me, it's a little about money, and I made *that* much money last year." Granted, I didn't make any money last year nor do I lather up with Kiehls in the shower. But yeah, it's a lot about the money. And the saddest part is the amount of money is that what we need to just keep our heads above water isn't that much at all.

I don't think a lot of people realize that this is so hard on me because I feel helpless. When it was just me and my daughter, I was the sole breadwinner and I never ever experienced this sort of black hole of uncertainty. That being said, I know being the sole source of income is rough and I don't want that all on Ryan. I don't know what is going on here. It's not like it is one place or one line of business. I branched out. I stopped being picky. I just want to work. I want this pressure in my chest gone. I want to be done with the perpetual malaise and fatigue of anxiety. I want to not have to mentally go over the books every time my kid asks for a little pocket money.

It seems easy for people to tell me not to take all of this rejection personally. But the major problem with that is um, I am the one that got black-balled. It was my skills, my personality, my looks that didn't cut the mustard. How do I detach from myself? Prozac? Buddhism? Lobotomy?

I have also heard people say that when things are bad it is some sort of lesson that God is trying to teach you. Okay then what lesson? Not to let people with no basic understanding of economics to vote? That food is overrated? That nothing I ever do is good enough? Because that is pretty much how I feel these days.

When I was driving to that interview the other morning, I found a CD in my case called "Sick Sense of Humor" a creation of my own that is about two years old. I used to burn a lot more personal CDs. The title of this one is stolen from within the Depeche Mode song "The Rumour" (which you may better know as "Blasphemous Rumours"). I like to pick themes when I burn something. I could never make this CD right now. If I tried it would be so much darker than the one I burned two years ago. No, this one was born of pure creativity on a warm fall day when the baby was sleeping. I'm going to leave you with the second song, because there is not any better song that I can think of offhand that gives a sense of how I feel. Plus, it's the Who and it's Friday and I need some freakin' fun!