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Random Subset of Reasons Why Job Hunting Is Like Dating, and Therefore A Super Shitty Part of Adulthood
Reason #1: I hate hate hate it. Seriously, why don't I just uncap my marker here and write "JUDGE ME YOU TOTAL STRANGER" across my forehead?

Reason #9: Interview/date clothes. They are a lie, a lie that you wear, and also overpay for, and then worry about snagging/ripping/staining or otherwise knocking them off their pedestal of interview-and-date-worthiness. A pox on them.

Reason #11: Unbearable self-consciousness. As an alpha-introvert, barely bearable self-consciousness is my default state when in a room with any stranger, so why not turn that up to 11?

Reason #12: They will make nice, and chatter about where they like to lunch and the latest project they're working on, and tell you how interesting your story is, and you'll think, hey, maybe this isn't so bad/could actually work. They'll smile and promise to get back to you before next Wednesday. And then they will ghost you, and you will never, ever, ever know why.

Poor Spouse had an interview recently, which went so well that the recruiter and company interview folks finished the interview by saying, Come to lunch with us! Interview + lunch went so well that the recruiter called that evening to say, They're making an offer, as soon as Partner X returns from Exotic Destinationland to discuss it! And then Partner X returned and said, My ole buddy needs a job -- and I'm giving him this one!


Money Money Money Money Money Money Money
(Hearing Gail Vaz-Oxlade's theme in my head) We are not making enough, and we are spending too much. I feel like I just cannot pay attention to the financials. I understand intellectually that, at Spouse's skill/experience level, jobs pay better but are scarcer. But there are days when it's hard for me not to be snappish that we are still relying on one paycheck, which is just not enough. And the anxiety about that, and about rising interest rates and their effect on our debt, and about having effectively missed 6 months of retirement contributions, and about grinding my teeth into nubs by general economic whiplash -- leaving utterly to the side how I feel about the various lurching movements our government is making -- is all a rising shark-in-the-water mutter in my head that's slowly driving me mad, and you know what seems to mute it, temporarily anyway? SPENDING MONEY. Eating out. Buying things that aren't quite unnecessary, but are hardly urgent. Doing the things that are dumb dumb dumb.

In short, WHAT IS YOUR DAMAGE, HUMAN? I need to reset and recommit. Any suggestions, universe?


Blogging Is Hard, Y'all
Seriously. I think I'm averaging one post every three weeks. How can that be? It's almost literally talking about myself, perhaps the most 21st-century, first-world act in existence. It's barely a step up from posting daily selfies and typing Meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! as the caption for each. Fourteen-year-olds with full class schedules and nine extracurriculars manage that. Am I the laziest human in the self-described civilized world?


Revelation
If I am not the Emperor of the Run-On Sentence, I'm at least the Grand Vizier. Holy mackerel but I can run the hell on and on and on, even when no one is listening.

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