Slipping on the Big Girl Panties

Hi.

Grouchy McGrouchster here. I was just checking out everyone's morning posts and getting a good laugh here and there; it sure takes the grump out of my war with technology yesterday.

My friend Kim, who is also job hunting, and who also suffers from depression, and who also hates this whole technology thing, took the brunt of my frustration since she was the only one whom I felt could truly relate. I ranted and raved on the phone to her until I felt better - ok, I didn't really feel better. At least she got it. She didn't say things like "If you'd just take a deep breath and focus, this would all be ok." Nor, as my mom would have, did she say something like "Just get off your duff* and do it! And put a smile on your face."

Instead, Kim validated for me that having gotten up, exercised, showered and cleaned the kitchen, I was a million miles ahead of myself and it was a very good day. Wrangling with the computer was not what I needed. I needed to continue my morning feeling as though I were accomplishing things - great things, even - not feeling like a complete idiot. Thanks, Kimmie :)

But then, I was able to pull myself out of it a bit by quitting (yes, I know) at least for awhile. I walked away from it and left the house. I went grocery shopping and found super deals (I'm not a bargain hunter, per se, so this was good.) I picked up the kids and was nice to Jack (sometimes I'm not so good at that when I'm pouting.) I made a spectacular dinner that everyone liked. And I never came back in here to look at another job site. Not once.

Smart move. I shouldn't get so worked up over such little shit. Today, instead of sitting down and opening Monster.com, I opened a friend's blog and caught up on her writing. Then I opened another one and another one, until I was feeling alive and friendly and supported and surrounded by good karma. A much better beginning to the day, I think, than trying to remember thirteen different passwords and log-in names. Opening up a "perfect match" job that turns out to be a Forklift Trainer, since one of my "key" words is "trainer." Dude. Forklift? My friends flip a coin to see who has to sit in the front seat when I drive a regular car.

So now I'm ready to hit it again. Thanks for bearing with me. I'll strive to be a bit less of a whiner spoiled brat beotch today.

* Duff. What a fabulous word. My mom really does use it, too.