A Short Rant, a Hard Truth, and Something Funny to Make Up for it.

Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be English lit. majors. I am truly, truly grateful for kind interest and helpful suggestions about work from people. And yes, there is a BUT. I am just tired of the "Have you considered ...?" and the "Have you thought about ..?" and the "Have you tried ...?" The answer is YES, okay? Yes, I have considered, I have thought about, and I have tried. And now I am receiving "thanks for applying, this position has been filled, we will keep your resume on file" notices for part-time grocery checker positions.

God has really shown me a lot of pride and insecurity throughout this process. Not easy to learn, but I am grateful that He is doing that for me. I am praying for a heart that is humble, hopeful, and focused on service. This is still in progress, as evinced by my fed-up-ness with the conversation above. Really? What kind of a response to loving interest and desire to help is that?

I promised something funny. And here it is, continuing last week's Star Wars theme no less. What do you know? A B.A. in English Literature is good for something, after all!

The Paragon Of Animals

obviously. My life is so FULL of angelic action and godlike apprehension. Yes, it is time for another Update, should you be interested in what's going on. Mostly what's going on is in my head, right now. If you don't feel like indulging my self-absorption, check it out -- these crosswords are the best thing ever.

WHY I AM PROUD OF MY HUSBAND
... because he is so diligent and hardworking in his studies. Not to mention intelligent. I was helping him review vocab for a quiz the other night, and I couldn't even pronounce the definitions. DH could supply the definition (and pronounce it!) and he even knew what it meant. And he's making very good grades -- a big deal in medical school!

WHY I AM NOT LOOKING FOR A JOB
"As an English lit major, there are two job descriptions for which I qualify: low-paying secretarial position, or even lower-paying secretarial position." -- Probably misquoted line from this amusing but forgettable mystery (couldn't resist the Austen reference!), by Tracy Kiely.

Ms. Kiely, if you are reading, please don't sue me. I returned the book to the library, and it's checked out now, so I can't go back and correct the reference. Truly it wouldn't be worth your time. I have a B.A. in English literature.

In fact, I tried the low-paying secretarial position and even that was too much for me. I see a red polo and a grocery checkout line in my future ... that's After Winter future. I need to gain at least five pounds (probably ten, but ... not going to think about that) and figure out how to stop having emotional freakouts first. Inexplicable, uncontainable fits of weeping or panic or whatever do not fit well in a professional environment.

DH and I are hoping to move nearer to his school this spring, and my plan is to arrive at Reasonably Functional Adulthood by then, and then get another job. I suspect that green and warm will help a lot. Meanwhile I am reading a lot of novels and drawing super-deformed pandabears and robot smily faces.

So that's why, no, I'm not really looking for a job right now.

Although if anyone needs a regular babysitter/nanny, I would make an AWESOME nanny. Just sayin.'

WHY I AM NOT WRITING.
^See above.

WHY I LOVE MY SAVIOUR
I can't quite say "because he keeps me sane" (see above), but ... because he keeps me safe even when I'm not sane. Even when I'm too stuck in the insanity to take a breath and remember that.
Because he saves me from what I deserve. Because he knows me -- all of me. He knows me, and he loves me!
Because he offers me the sure hope of a good world -- a world that will be what it was made to be.
Because he put me in this world that -- snow and all -- can take my breath away with its sheer, unexpected beauty.
Because he has blessed me with the love of so many dear, dear people.
Because he is, completely, in and of Himself, beautiful, lovely, excellent, right in a way that anything else can only shadow.

Trojan Holiday

No, my computer didn't get attacked over Christmas. Instead, we got to spend Christmas with our families after all!

Despite my aversion to new years' resolutions,  there are definitely some things I want to do differently in 2010. Specifically, more deliberately. But first, Dear Reader, a quick visit to December 2009.

Or maybe not so quick. Since concision is not my strong point, either!

As a few of you know, I quit my job at Monster Financial almost a week after my first Iowa blizzard hit. This is still a little painful for me to talk about. It's difficult for me to trust my husband that we will be OK financially until I find more work. Even more difficult is accepting my own inadequacy. Physically and mentally, I just could not handle the work any longer -- including getting-ready and commute time, I was spending from 6:00 am to around 5:30 pm on a job that was both extremely easy and emotionally draining. The prospect of getting up even earlier to handle the winter weather was the proverbial last straw.

So you can pray that God will help me to repent of feeling guilty for not being able to do more (because that is just PRIDE), and help me to humbly embrace the opportunity to do what I CAN ... whatever that is ... without worrying over what I should have been able to do, or what someone else might have been able to do. Right now I'm looking for work closer to home, maybe even something part-time. That, and sleeping A LOT!

After I quit, DH and I were super-excited to be free to visit our families for Christmas! We crammed gifts for our families into DH's tiny car along with the gifts they had already mailed us, and hit the road. During the 11 hours from Iowa to Tennessee we watched the fields outside the windows turn from white ... to dead brown ... to patchy green.

It was such a blessing to spend the holidays with our families. We spent five days at my parents' farm in Troy. Coming from a small family, I don't think DH appreciates how restful it was for me to be in the middle of ten or twelve people's constant noise and busy-ness! Christmas day we travelled to Dennis's parents home, and spent several days enjoying their company as well. I am so grateful that we were able to make the trip down to Tennessee.

Then we s l o w l y drove back from 20-degree weather to negative 20! Seriously -- negative 20 degrees Fahrenheit. I am still incredulous.

I loved our vacation, but it was wonderful to worship with our church again this week. And today was Dennis's first day back at school--yay!

That wraps up our holiday, and our news. Now it's back to the routine, or some semblance. Although I would like to say that we are having Gulasch for supper, using a recipe from an Italian cookbook Dennis's sister gave us. I substituted the deer meat my brother Nate sent back with us for beef, and threw it in the slow cooker. With all the lemon zest, spices, and cheapo Cabernet Sauvignon, it smells AMAZING.

You Have To Be Pretty Darn Self Absorbed...

... to write a blog post this long all about ONESELF.

I am. I am, I am. Sorry.

It is hard to believe that DH and I have been married for nearly 5 months. In a way, it surprises me how short a time we have had together ... living together is much less of an adjustment than I was expecting.

Not that it isn't still fraught with all kinds of drama.

I am the kind of person who likes to live life on the edge. As in, I borrow about 10 books a week from the library AND I read them. ALL of them. WOW. This week I was thrilled to discover some ancient cassette tapes featuring performances of Hamlet and Macbeth by old-timey actors such as John Gielgud and Alec Guinness. You know, the actors who still have that resonant, moist, radio quality to their voices (listening to which is the audial equivalent of biting into a rich, booze- and fruit-laden holiday cake), with truly astounding precision of diction. This was truly a find, because my car (which was born in the same year I was) plays cassette tapes.

So I really enjoyed listening to something truly absorbing on the way to work, as opposed to NPR's discussion of Oprah's latest big news, or the type of news stories discussed on the Godless Rock Stations, which are a sure way to erode the moral sensibility.

Then, inevitably, disaster struck. Wednesday morning I was late getting out the door, due to my distressing lack of professional attire. Dennis had already left for school--with his cellphone responsibly turned off, of course, because DH is nothing if not responsible. And of course my car would not start, because of course I had arrived home right in the middle of a soliloquy and had to stay in the car, turned on so that I could enjoy the heater, until the end of it, so that I had completely neglected to turn my lights off afterward, despite the index card taped to the inside of my windshield that says in large block letters TURN YOUR LIGHTS OFF, YOU IDIOT (except that DH crossed out the "idiot" part).

So I had to call and tell my boss that I wouldn't make it in to work. And then I had to call and cancel the doctor's appointment I had scheduled for that afternoon. And then I had to cry for three hours, because I am self-absorbed enough to really be upset by my explosion of incompetence. I still have this arrogant need to, if I can't be brilliant in a creative way, at least handle mundanity competently.

I should explain at this point that, since moving to Iowa the last week of July, I have left my lights on (and run down my car battery) four times, and locked my keys in the car once. That's just car-related incompetence, not general incompetence, which happens on a daily, if not hourly basis.

So I was basically a mess by the time Dennis got home. I told him what happened, and he did that thing where he stops and thinks how he wants to react to a situation. So he decided to treat it as not a big deal at all (which I guess it wasn't, put into perspective, which I don't have). Which really did a lot to defuse my heaped-up store of agony untold, and help me to face the evening with an acceptable amount of sanity.

Sometimes this makes me mad that Dennis is so capable and so deliberate in his responses. Because, you know, I could use some of that! I have the emotional maturity of a six-year-old. My life is a constant string of NOW. And sometimes, NOW is great. But more often (because I am imperfect and wicked, and so is the world) NOW is not so great. And if NOW is all I can see, then, by golly ... it is not a pretty sight. I spend probably about 75% of my waking life either furtively walking around the edges of depression, hoping to stay peripheral, or CAUGHT IN THE PIERCING FANGS OF CRUEL DESPAIR, O Agony!

Anyway, the point of this whole story is to say how very, very much I respect my husband. He is one of the most thoughtful, deliberate people I know. He prays almsot every day that he would be Christlike in the way he loves his wife (me!), and that, my dears, is HUGE. (It makes me cry a lot, but then I cry ... a lot.) And it makes me really want to be more deliberate in the way I relate to him as well--less time reacting out of emotion and more time relating out of truth. I'll let you know how that goes. If nothing else, well, I can definitely see how God is using me to grow Dennis (my gosh, I HATE that).


I am just amazed by the grace and wisdom God has given my husband. He is so good -- Dennis is not exactly what I would have described as the ideal husband for myself a few years ago, but I cannot imagine a person who would be better suited for relating to me individually. I guess God knows what He is doing!

Thankfulness

Today did not start out so great. It was DARK and COLD and WET when I woke up (at 6 am!), and the outfit I had planned to wear seemed like the absolute WRONG thing to wear. Then I spent half an hour throwing on, then off, the OTHER contents of my closet, frantically trying to find something that was clean, fit, and business casual. I didn't have time to eat my oatmeal and had to run out the door with an apple and no lunch.

Really? I mean, NOT ONLY am I eternally loved by God, He gives me so many, small, specific blessings every day. With that in mind, I would like to offer

THINGS THAT I AM THANKFUL FOR TODAY.

I don't like driving in the rain, BUT I did NOT forget to turn off my lights today!

No time to pack lunch = Caramel Frappuccino from the Starbucks down the road from my office. YUM. That, my friends, is a definite WIN.

My husband SUGGESTED that we go shopping for work pants that actually fit. New clothes = yay! And even today -- SO much better than being too fat for my clothes!

Ashes Against the Grain. The perfect album to listen to in today's weather ... ON my iPOd ... AND I'm allowed to listen to said iPod while I'm in the filing rows at work!

FREE COFFEE at work. I availed myself.

Most of all, I am thankful for my Dear Husband, who was patient and kind to me this morning, lent me his umbrella, offered to do laundry AND go shopping, and most importantly, PRAYED with me that I would remember to enjoy God's good grace to me throughout the day.

I am very, very blessed.

In Which Emily Snarks ...

... and also talks about boobs. Be warned, dear reader: this is an indelicate post. Read at your discretion.

Fridays we are allowed to wear jeans to work. Apparently I missed the memo that this particular Friday was also Boob Day.

Yes, I just said "boob" all over the Internet.

The majority of people who work in my department at MFF are young - aspiring young professionals between twenty-five and thirty-five, and then several filing peons like myself, who are about my own age. I'd say 80% of the peons and about 50% of the cubiculites are female. And I can now say that I have a more than casual acquaintance with the boobs of over half of them (the female ones, that is).

Offending garments included, but were not limited to, close-fitting and nearly transparent t-shirts, a lacy cutout polyester thing, or plunging v-necks that should have been retired about 15 lb ago.

Really, people. When did Casual Friday become Boob Day? I just don't understand the reasoning behind such wardrobe choices. I mean, sure, some of the girls in question had really nice boobs. But anybody who actually WANTS to be looking at your boobs, is a creep who you really don't want looking at your boobs. And everybody else would appreciate a little more fabric, thank you very much.

Having expressed my frustration and bewilderment thus indelicately, I shall retire to sniff my smelling salts and sigh over the foolishness of modern times.

On a COMPLETELY unrelated note ... those grapes I was craving the other day? I'm sure they were sour anyway.

THE JOB BLOG

After 2 weeks of employment (by Mon. or Tues. that should be gainful employment!), I figured it was time to tell the folks how said employment happened.

Most of you are aware that I was hoping to have a job before DH and I actually moved to Iowa. My search was made difficult by the fact that I graduated with a degree in English literature (specialising in Medieval literature, at that), am not licensed to teach in Iowa, and have almost NO previous work experience due to frantically acquiring said degree ... Still, my resume looked good, I was hopeful, I did everything right (I thought).

By the end of July, I was despondent. Turned down not only for "dream" positions that I really lacked the expertise for, but for secretarial and administrative jobs that, frankly, any high school graduate with a decent work ethic could do. I couldn't even get a temp job at the Monster Financial Firm that, I was assured, was the one company in town that was always hiring.

I was down to three options. Three bleak, bitter options.

Cafeteria worker in a high school. I could do that ... get up every morning at 4am to spend all day preparing bad, prepackaged food for unappreciative high schoolers. I could really do that. But I really didn't want to.

I could join the Army. At least then I would get great benefits. Health insurance for the first time in years sounds pretty good. Then again, I would have to spend time away from my dear husband. Lots of time away. And I would have to do pushups. Lots of pushups. I HATE pushups.

Or, I could MAKE $1000s A DAY FROM HOME! UNBELIEVABLE EMPLOYMENT OPPORTUNITY!! SIGN UP NOW to MAKE $$$$ IN JUST HOURS A DAY!!!!!

Really. I was desponding all right. I was in full out despond, on the floor by my laptop, staring at the ceiling and wailing in self-pity because I didn't want to work in a school cafeteria. It was bad, people. Bad. I am not the most mature human being, evidently.

Anyway, the story has a happy ending. After forcing me to deal with some major pride and trust issues (thanks so much, Lord), God finally, graciously provided a temp position at said Monster Financial Form--which has a good possibility of turning full time. If you're interested, I alternate between managing files (the system reminds me of working at the library), listening to insurance companies' hold music (I think they've been using the same songs since 1984. There are two of them -- one is peppy, and one is schloopy. Listening to either makes your brain turn to goo and slide out of your nostrils), barcoding, and other random office-y type stuff. Not terribly complicated, but enough variety and volume to keep me busy, and I really like all the people I work with.

Really, anyone could be doing my job. But I'm very, very glad it's me.