Potato/Potato

Have you ever had the taste of a food evoke a memory? I made Fingerling potatoes* tonight, which have a special meaning for me. It's kind of funny that I feel such an affinity for a potato.

I started taking anti-depressants for the first time in the middle of December, three years ago. After I had been on them for about a week we went to The Husband's work Christmas party. At the time he was working for very old money and they had a beautiful house, which everyone was invited to for a Christmas dinner. They served roasted Fingerling potatoes and it was the first time I had ever had them. Because I had been feeling really depressed I hadn't really been eating a lot and all food basically tasted like cardboard. I was so nervous going to the dinner because I was sure that everyone would know that something was wrong with me. My face felt wrong from the inside. Anyone whose ever dealt with depression will probably know what that means. I sat down and ate my potatoes and was amazed because I could taste them. I had the most amazing sensation that night that I was going to get better. All because of the potatoes.

I would like to say that I bought the Fingerling potatoes with the express purpose of making myself well, but I didn't. We've been eating a lot of potatoes in our house lately. Poor potatoes get a bad rap from all the low-carb diets, but they pack a lot of nutrition. Feeding a child with ADD is kind of bizarre-o world. You try and get in the biggest bang for your buck, knowing that they probably won't eat a lot. Potatoes are a winner in our house, so I bought the Fingerling potatoes because they are one of Sweet Pea's favorites.

I ate them for dinner and was transported to that night when I knew that I was going to be okay. I'm not okay right now, but I know that I will be again. These potatoes taste like hope.

*These are Fingerling potatoes, if you aren't familiar with them. They are long and thin, like fingers, and have a similar taste and texture to a Yukon Gold potato.







And now for something completely different--I am totally obsessed with the PBS show "Downton Abbey." Netflix said that I would like it and they were right**. I've watched all of the first season and the first four episodes of this season in two days. (I stayed up really late.) This show is so well done it's like reading a book. I feel like I know these people. I'm sad that I'm caught up now and have to wait for new shows like a regular person. If you have Netflix you MUST watch Season One. Then go here and start watching Season Two.

(The last time I was unemployed, I became obsessed with MTV's "Teen Mom." This is a vast improvement.***)

**Netflix knows me WAY better than Pandora.

***Just so you know I haven't gone totally smart, I'm also kind of obsessed with the train wreck that is "DanceMoms.")

I know that this is true. I just hope I wake up soon.

It Went

I am back from my interview and, basically, it went... I think that after every other interview that I've had in my life I've felt really good about it; this one not so much. The guy I was interviewing with was very aggressive, not mean, just aggressive. He kept harping on how my most recent job was basically backsliding from my previous two jobs. I was honest and didn't try to talk the job into something that it wasn't. What I did say was that it was only 9 months out of a 13 year work history. I also said that, although it wasn't an ideal position, the job market being what it was, I was glad to have found a job in my field at all.

I think that most people who have done this, but pre-interview I had imagined my whole life working for this guy. I had come around to the idea of working full time. I would rather be working than here at home. I'm disappointed, because even if the interview went better than I think that it did, the guy isn't moving very quickly. He said that he's looking to fill the position in the first half of the year. I really can't wait that long.

I'm going to lay on the couch and watch the Food Network now.

UPDATE:

I decided to look on Craigslist to see if there were any jobs for today. BCFG has a job posted (it names the company, so I know that it's them). It looks like K was promoted to R's job and now they are looking to fill K's position. This really feels like kicking a person when they are down.

What I am supposed to be doing VS. What I am actually doing

Tomorrow is my interview with the one of the people to whom I randomly sent a resume. Right now I am supposed to be reading everything on his website so that when he asks my opinion on the capital markets I can answer his question by actually giving his opinion on the capital markets. I don't really have an opinion, other then "they kind of suck right now." Or a slightly more intelligent comment: "Last year the markets were flat...again." Instead of that I am writing to you, while baking my Chinese Five Spice Chicken (which smells really good--thank you for asking). Prior to my interview, I will learn everything that I can about this guy's opinion on QDIAs and 408-b2* so I sound smart, it's just hard to sit down and do it right now.

I am nervous about my interview. I'm not nervous about answering the questions--I am comfortable with that. Al Gore asked really tough questions a year ago, and I've never really been shy when it comes to interviewing. I am nervous about not fitting in. I never really felt like I fit in at BCFG. I think it was easier for them to let me go because of that. I am also nervous that this guy doesn't really have anything for me. He's just curious to see who BCFG (a big competitor of his) just got rid of. I am nervous about not looking right.

Speaking of not looking right...I cut my own bangs this morning (with a successful outcome). As I was cutting my bangs, I was thinking "what normal person cuts their own hair the day before an interview when there is a We Heart Hair around the corner that will trim bangs for $5?" Along the same lines, I have sent The Husband to the store on his way home from work to pick up knee highs (because who wants to wear pantyhose under their pants).** Being unemployed means that I have lots of time to go do things like get my bangs trimmed or buy knee highs. The reason that I didn't do these two errands today is that I'm sad and I'm anxious and I just want to curl up inside myself, kind of like a roly poly bug. It is hard to act like someone who isn't depressed. I do it though, because sometimes acting like you feel okay means that, for awhile, you actually do feel okay. Tomorrow I will be fine--I know I seem "normal" to most people. I can psych myself up for the interview. I couldn't, however, psych myself today to go buy socks or get my hair cut. It's weird, I know. Thankfully, I have been successfully cutting my own bangs since college, so there was no harm done.*** Maybe I should have listed that as a skill on my resume. I cut The Husband's hair with success a few weeks ago and I trim Sweet Pea's bangs as well. If this guy hires me I could offer hair cuts to my new co-workers.

So now I'm going back to reading about my potential new employer, who has the same name as a podiatrist in Florida. I Googled him, but he is a pretty boring Google (like me).

Wish me luck!

*Yes, they are as exciting as they sound, however in my working world they are the biggest thing to come around in a long time.

**One very nice thing about The Husband is that he will go to the store for things like knee highs and tampons. I did describe exactly what I wanted and I told him that if the knee highs were too confusing he should find a woman in the store and ask her for help. The Husband is anti-cell phone, which is why he couldn't just call me.

***If your wondering, I recommend investing in a pair of actual hair cutting scissors. But then you have to leave your house to go to the Sally Beauty Supply. Thankfully, I already had mine.

UPDATE:
The Husband successfully completed his knee high purchase. He did have to ask the old lady working in cosmetics at the Walgreen's, but he did it, so I feel like I have to give him credit for that. I am feeling extremely nervous and panicky, so I've decided that it's late enough to go to bed and enjoy better living through pharmacology and take some Ativan.

The Old Days

Remember the olden days when you mailed out your resume and then waited patiently to see if anyone would call you? When I was a senior in college I was desperate to have a job by the time I graduated* and I remember sending out over 50 resumes in one week to companies I thought that I might like to work for. Now we email and with a few keystrokes things are on their way and then you can obsessively check your email every 30 seconds to see if someone wants you.

My self-esteem has become directly tied to my job search. Today after trolling Craigslist and deciding that there wasn't anything good and new I started sending out blind resumes from THE BOOK OF LISTS** and someone bit. I have an interview on Friday for a job that sounds good. I have sent out so many resumes that I have forgotten who has received them. Hopefully I didn't sound like an idiot when this guy called me today and said that he'd just received my resume--I guess I didn't since he wants to meet me. I haven't said anything about working part time. My strategy is to make them fall in love with me and realize that they can't live without me before I mention the fact that I'd prefer to work a four day week. Don't tell The Husband, but I'm kind of coming around to working full time. I'm at least considering it. I've decided that I like money and would like to have more of it, not less. I don't like the idea of selling myself short.

I still hate looking for a job. Please feel free to raise your hand if you are sick of hearing me say that. I plug away at it though, and hopefully will have good news soon.

*A goal I just barely met--I got the call from The Big P on a Friday morning and graduation was the next day.

**I may have to take a picture of THE BOOK OF LISTS because in addition to its name, which I quiet enjoy saying, the thing is enormous and extremely cumbersome to deal with. Its awkwardness kind of reminds me of Moses coming down the mountain with the Ten Commandments--useful, but not very portable.

Boss Charming

While looking for a job today, I was searching postings on Craigslist (which kind of creeps me out, since several people in my city have been killed by responding to stuff they saw on Craigslist--I removed all contact info from my resume, save my cell phone number and email address) and I came across this posting...

Office Assistant

(City that I am not going to name) financial planning practice seeking a part-time administrator to support the new business and review processes, provide client service and scheduling, generate mailings, presentations and other projects as assigned. General office duties include phone support, mail, supplies, and office equipment maintenance.

The chosen candidate will possess:
Strong computer proficiency including MS Word, Excel and Outlook.
Excellent multi-tasking and organization skills
Attention to detail
Professional demeanor
Excellent communication skills

Um, hi--that sounds a lot like my job, right down to being located in the same suburb. I actually had qualms about applying for it thinking that it might be my job. Would they do that to me? Would they really let me go saying they couldn't afford Clay Aiken and me part time and then turn around and hire a part time person? Honestly, I think that they could. I talked myself off a ledge and applied for the position anyway, since it is perfect for me. It was posted on January 10, so hopefully I am not applying too late. To show how un-hip I am, I didn't know that you could apply for real jobs on Craigslist. Apparently, that's what the kids are doing these days. Now that I've applied for some more things, I'm checking my email about every 30 seconds to see if someone wants me.

There is nothing worse than looking for a job. I'm thinking that it should be incorporated somehow into* a person's prison sentence or other forms of punishment.

Anyway...this post is actually about The Man. Since I started writing after I got my job at BCFG you haven't really heard a lot about The Man, whom I worked for a The Place with Three Letters. The Man is truly charming. There are very few men whom I would describe with that word. I think The Man is the only one that I've ever met. The Man will always open your car door for you, pull out your chair, and carry out other social graces that are mostly dead. Unfortunately working for The Man was also like working for Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde. You never knew who was going to show up that day. Dr. Jekyll was the most warm and complimentary person tho work for--he was a joy. Mr. Hyde was horrible and just mean--pointing out everything bad that you ever thought about yourself. Working for The Man was constant walking on eggshells.

Why didn't I look for something else? My industry collapsed with the market in 2008 and still hasn't recovered. I was well paid and I got to work from home. I had total flexibility with my schedule. Most days I was 111 miles away from The Man. You can put up with a lot from that distance. The flip side of all my freedom was that I was expected to get stuff done whenever The Man wanted it, which meant dropping everything to finish stuff on the weekends or my so called "days off."

I haven't spoken to The Man in months. However, due to the interview that I was supposed to have today, I needed to gather references. I wanted to use Mr. X and The Man, since they were the most recent people that I supported. I sent The Man a text, which he didn't immediately respond to, so I ended up using Mr. X and Mole as my references. The Man did respond, at 4:13 on Saturday morning--my phone dinging woke me up. The Man has insomnia even worse than mine, so it was very common for me to get texts from him in the middle of the night. (I never responded until normal hours--texting in the middle of the night seemed too intimate and kind of inappropriate.) Thankfully, Dr. Jekyll was the one who got my text, and The Man had many nice things to say and he will be a good reference. I think it's been long enough since I've worked for him that he misses me and has forgotten any mistakes that I made. I don't really miss The Man. It's pretty hard to miss someone who treated you that badly, no matter how many times they pulled out your chair or got you a drink.

This post has turned out to be more depressing than I meant it to be...my doctor did adjust my medication and I'm waiting to see what, if anything, it will do. Until then I just hang in there.

I'm going to go back to trolling Craigslist now--I sound creepy. I like it.

*I'm listening to Pandora while I write, and Pandora just thought that I would enjoy Celine Dion and Reba McEntire. Sometimes I feel like Pandora doesn't know me at all--thumbs down. Now I have Florence and the Machine and am much happier.

Texas, don't make me treat you like Clay Aiken.

I'm beginning to really dislike the state of Texas.

First, Texas is part of the reason that everything is on hold with the job with The Woman with the Unfortunate Last Name. She has been in Texas all this week because of a conference.

Second, the person whom I was planning to interview with on Monday is going to Texas because of a death in the family and she will be there over a week. I know that deaths in the family are very bad and I'm probably going to hell for thinking that my job search is more important. Still, it is really hard when things keep getting pushed back. When you are looking for a job, it is the most important thing in the world to you, but it's never that important to the person hiring.

I did find out from Unemployment that I have given them sufficient documentation to prove my existence, so that's good. Unfortunately, I also learned that I'd filed my claims for the last two weeks incorrectly, so that's bad. I fixed the claims today and I know how to do it now. Seriously, though--I'm a smart person* and I'm having a lot of trouble navigating my way through all of this. What's happening to all the dumb people?

*In spite of everything, I still have a really high opinion of myself.

Fly

Fly (Choral Demo) by ericwhitacre

Play the SoundCloud piece while you are reading...it's what I was listening to while I was writing.

I'm sending out resumes. Lots and lots of resumes. Each time they go out, I send them on with a wish and a prayer that they will actually be read and that someone, somewhere will champion me. I imagine them with little wings. I imagine them flying.

This song is MAGIC. In the time it took me to write the above paragraph, I checked my email and I had a response from someone who wants to meet with me. I called her (always an extremely nerve wracking experience for me) and we talked for about 20 minutes and I HAVE AN INTERVIEW ON MONDAY*. Now I am in the process of getting references, so I got to contact both The Man and Mr. X.

Here's the actual email I sent to Mr. X:

Dear Mr. X,

I hope that you're doing well and had a good New Years.

I am at the point in my job search where I need to give out some references and I wanted to make sure that you are comfortable with that before I give out your contact information.

Thanks a lot.

-The Girl Who Worked In a Triangle

This is the email I WANTED to send to Mr. X:

Dear Mr. X,

I hate you.

I hope that you're doing well and had a good New Years. My New Year is crappy. It is your fault.

I am at the point in my job search where I need to give out some references and I wanted to make sure that you are comfortable with that before I give out your contact information. You had better be, because it is your fault that I am in this position. If you don't say nice things about me I will drive to your house at night and key your car. (Actually, I don't know where you live, but I bet I could find out.)

Thanks a lot. Not really, but I feel like I should say something nice...

-The Girl Who Worked In a Triangle

Time to get my suit dry cleaned for Monday's interview.

*Yes, I meant to yell.

Resumes - Ho!

The Unemployment Office clearly needs to employ some more people. After being on hold today for an hour and twenty-eight minutes (yes you read that right) I finally got to speak with someone about my issue. My name isn't matching with the Social Security records, so it's like I don't exist. Thankfully, it seems to be a reasonably easy fix. Tomorrow I do have to go to the Social Security office, but that should make for some good people watching. After that visit, I should be able to fax everything in and once again be a person.

Why is there a picture of a ThunderCat on my blog today? Because I just sent out a lot of resumes and was thinking "Resumes - Ho!" which should be said in your head, just like the ThunderCats. These resumes were sent to reasonably friendly people that I know. I don't think that they'll have any jobs for me, but they know a lot of people and I am hoping that they will take up my case and spread the word that I am looking.

BCFG is a really well-know firm around town. I'm sure that the story that I am gone has already gotten out. I'm very curious to know what BCFG is telling people. A lot of people don't like The Big Cheese. I am prepared to tell all his secrets to whomever will hire me. Hopefully that will work in my favor.

Your Inteded Career Path or Why You Drink

Normally when I am unemployed, or other bad stuff is going on in my life, my dad sends me "helpful" (or not) inspirational Bible verses or quotes from Norman Vincent Peale. They make me want to scratch my eyes out. God and I aren't getting along too well right now. Although my father hasn't stopped with the "inspirational email" (that I delete without reading), this morning he sent me this graph, which I actually like because of its accuracy.

Right now life just sucks and I'm enjoying things that celebrate that.

Cookies Anyone?

When at Night I Go to Sleep

Thanks to the Vyvanse, Sweet Pea cannot sleep, so I have been singing a lot of lullabies lately and this one, "Evening Prayer" from Englebert Humperdink's children's opera "Hansel and Gretel" has become a favorite. I always have to count out the angels on my fingers to make sure that I get all fourteen.

When at night I go to sleep
Fourteen angels watch do keep
Two my head are guarding
Two my feet are guiding
Two are on my right hand
Two are on my left hand
Two who warmly cover
Two who o'er me hover
Two to whom 'tis given
To guide my steps to Heaven

I have always liked this song. First, how can you not like something written by a guy named Englebert Humperdink? (Incidentally, thinking of Englebert Humperdink always reminds me of Prince Humperdink in "The Princess Bride," which is also something nice to think about.) The song also always reminds me of my first elementary school music teacher, Mrs. Jackson, who was the one that taught me this song. (I thought I had forgotten her name, but listening to the song it came whooshing back.) I thank her though for playing a big part in my love of music.

I got some bad news on the job front today. The Woman with the Unfortunate Last Name has two partners and they are looking to for someone who wants a lower salary than I need. I was very up front and gave them the lowest figure that I can accept, so I cannot go any lower. I have already offered to work more hours for less money than I was at BCFG. There is also another candidate that they are interested in as well. (Damn you Clay Aiken Jr.*) One of the partners is going to be out of town all next week, so it's going to be a few weeks before all of this gets resolved. I've been told that I'm The Woman's first choice, but in her words "I shouldn't stop looking." On top of all that, my unemployment claim is all messed up and even after talking to someone today I'm not really sure how to fix it. I'm feeling extra bad** because I put all my eggs in one basket and it feels like they've broken. I should have been doing more to look for a job during this time. I am so scared.

I'm not doing very well. I have cried more in the last two weeks than I have since I was in the hospital. I am not a crier. Crying makes me feel very weak, so for me to actually cry is a sign of something. I am so sad and so overwhelmed. I feel the need to "confess," which is why I'm writing. I need to tell someone. I am coping by sleeping too much. When I get depressed I basically just shut down, which makes The Husband think that I am lazy. I would love to somehow trap him in the mind and body of a depressed person for 24 hours so he would know how this feels. Wouldn't it be nice if we could make those that don't understand feel this? Anyway, back to sleeping...In terms of what I could be doing, it's not so bad. I'm not drinking. I'm not taking pills. I'm also determined to lose weight, so I'm not letting myself "eat my feelings." You have probably figured this out, but The Bloggess is probably my favorite blog, and last week she wrote this amazing post about self-harm. I reflected on that a lot because I've never hurt myself in the traditional sense. Even when I was in the hospital, I was there because I knew that if I didn't go I was going to do something. I think I was the only person there who hadn't actually tried to kill myself. I was definitely the sanest person in the locked ward. I've been thinking though, that my extreme over-eating is self harm. I am slowing killing myself. Even with all of this shit, I am going to stop. One day and one meal at a time. I owe my daughter a better legacy than I am currently leaving. I want her to see a mother who loves herself (or at least likes herself most of the time).

This is just really hard...made all the harder because I went through it less than a year ago. I am so angry at BCFG and then so sad that they didn't want me. It is so hard to be rejected like that.

So, I sleep. I sleep with Sweet Pea because she's afraid of heights and her bed is a loft*** and she can't fall asleep without me and she wakes up in the middle of the night because of bad dreams or the Vyvanse. I sing in the middle of the night. She's been asking for medicine to help her sleep, since I told her it was the Vyvanse that makes it hard to sleep. She does not know that Ambien exists and I hope she never will. Sometimes she cries while she is asleep. In the middle of everything else, I have no idea if I am doing the right thing with this drug. I want someone to just fix it for me.

So, like always, dear readers, thank you for reading. It means more to me than you know to know that someone understands, sort of, how I feel.

Don't worry friends...I will call my doctor next week. I will get through this. I will survive****. And right now I will just sleep and that's okay.

*I've decided to call this new person Clay Aiken Jr. since I already have my deep-seated hatred of Clay Aiken.

**Really eloquent, I know

***Word to the wise--don't get your kids a loft bed. It just doesn't work out.

****Please do not start singing the Gloria Gaynor song in your head now--it's not that kind of survive. This one is much more primal.

Gravity*

I am waiting to hear about my Post-Triangle job. I am supposed to be un-decorating my Christmas tree right now. (Yes, I am aware that it's January 13 and most people have had their trees down for 2+ weeks. We always leave ours up until Epiphany and I was going to take it down last Sunday while The Husband and Sweet Pea were at the Girl Scout Cookie Rally, but that day was horrible and none of you would have been able to take down your tree either.)

Anyway, I just sent an email to The Woman with the Most Unfortunate Last Name. I couldn't stand waiting any more, and she did say to "give her until the end of the week," which is today.

Now, with my stomach in knots, I wait.

*Why is this post called "Gravity?" Well, I started to write all this weird stuff about being held to the earth, but then I decided that I was being way too emo and you really didn't want to hear it, so all that stuff got deleted, but I decided that I still liked the name. I just started writing more overly dramatic (even for me) stuff, so I have to stop now.

Just Breath

I am the last person who should make fun of people who can't spell. However I filed "Just Breath" away in my brain for a special time, after seeing it on Regretsy sometime last year. Sometimes you need to just breath...

Today was one of those days.

To give credit where it's due, one of my friends sent me a text reminding me to breathe* today, which reminded me of this picture. Thanks to Google**, I was able to find it quickly.

As you have probably gathered, today is hard. Having a child with ADD is hard. I have much greater empathy for my friends with special needs children. I truly don't know how they do it.

I am trying to not be "bad mommy" and to stop screaming*** in the morning. I'm also trying really hard to stop beating myself up about screaming in the morning. We had a bad weekend at our house. At one point I told The Husband that one of the great things about being bi-polar is that no one can ever make you feel worse than you already feel about yourself.

I'm having a hard time right now trying to decide if ADD is worse than ADD medication. The Vyvanse is controlling Sweet Pea's ADD symptoms and she has a much easier time concentrating. She is still an emotional roller coaster, though. Its weird, because she's different emotionally on the Vyvanse than she was on the Ritalin. The Ritalin was worse, but the melt downs seemed to be confined to the evening. Vyvanse is a longer-acting drug; she can now melt down at any time during the day. Her teacher thinks that she's doing better, but yesterday confessed that she's afraid to touch her and described her as very fragile.

In addition to the emotional stuff, Sweet Pea has kind of stopped eating. I've never really stressed about her diet--I'm a big proponent of kids eating when they are hungry and not making them finish a meal. On the flip side, I've also expected Sweet Pea to eat what The Husband and I eat as soon as she was able to eat it. Last night I was watching her take a bath and I really looked at her and she is so thin. She has always been thin, but right now it looks like she has grown taller (evident by the way her clothes fit), but not gained any weight. I don't think she's lost any weight, but she doesn't have any to lose. To make this harder, I am trying to lose weight. When I've dieted in the past, I've prepared healthier meals in the evening and The Husband just eats two (or three or four) servings. Now I'm thinking that I need to sneak in more calories for Sweet Pea and I hate the idea of cooking two dinners. Tonight I did solve the problem with my chicken enchiladas. The filling is the same for everyone, however I'm getting low carb, 60 calorie tortillas, while half the pan has the full fat kind. I'm also having light cheese and I smothered the other half with the full fat cheese. Hopefully with a little creativity I can come up with ideas like that for every meal. Food shouldn't be this hard, though.

I'm trying to be positive. I will hopefully hear about the job tomorrow. I am looking forward to the position--I think that I will get the chance to actually do something. It feels like these people need me. I never felt needed at BCFG.

I need to remember to just breath. You too--you just breath too.

*She would never spell it wrong

**Whenever I think of Google, I think of the boy I had a crush on for all of junior high and high school--he works there now. He was my junior high show choir dance partner. Alas, we never dated

****Unfortunately not exaggerating

New Triangle?

Today I talked to The Lady with the Most Unfortunate Name*, who will hopefully be my new employer. We talked about money, which usually precedes an offer. I should know something by the end of the week.

Unfortunately, I learned that by hiring me this company will be letting someone else go. I really wish that wasn't the case, but they are looking for someone with my set of securities licenses and their current assistant doesn't have them. I hate for anyone to lose a job, however I enjoy being able to pay my mortgage. I'm guessing that Clay Aiken isn't feeling bad about me right now.

I got it touch with R today--did I tell you that she left BCFG right before Christmas? I am waiting to hear the real story from her to see if it was her idea to leave or if she was forced out like me.

I've been thinking a lot about having a new job. I will hopefully have a much more comfortable office chair. That old one was horrid and not having to sit in it goes in the "pros" column of getting fired. Also, I will no longer have an inferiority complex about my clothes, when compared to K's sequined jumpsuits and tank tops in the winter. Although I thought her clothes were totally inappropriate, she always looked so much cooler than me. I may even get to wear jeans to work again.

Mostly I've been thinking about having a job where I matter. That was the worst part about BCFG--I felt so insignificant and that I wasn't contributing anything. I've had a lot of imaginary conversations with Mr. X lately where I tell him how I felt for the past 10 months. I'm sure I'll never say those things out loud, but it's fun to think about.

I really hope that this new position works out. I plan to set my desk at an angle some how, so I will still be The Girl Who Works in a Triangle.

*We might have to come up with something shorter than that.

I no longer work in a Triangle

We're coming up on 1:48, which was the exact moment, one week ago that I knew that I was going to be fired. I started writing this really long post about getting fired, but you are never going to get to see that one. It made me too sad.

Instead, I will tell you that getting fired was like a bad breakup with your high school boyfriend. The Big Cheese actually said "it's not you, it's us." That is the one part that I look back on and kind of smile about--who says things like that.

I tried to take being fired with as much grace and poise as I could. Now that I've had two experiences, I think I'm a pretty easy person to fire. The first time, I actually ended up being the one to comfort The Man, who was having a very hard time with firing me. This time was face-to-face* and I had to try really hard to keep my emotions under control. Once I was safely out of the building I cried more than I have in a long time.

Thankfully we left last Friday to visit a very good friend and her family. They have a new baby, who I got to hold most of the weekend. Holding tiny babies may be the best form of therapy that there is**. There should be some kind of service where sad people come over to over-worked mother's homes and hold their tiny babies while the mothers get to take a nap. I am very grateful to my friend for sharing her baby. I hope she feels better soon too.

Yesterday I started feeling really sad. I think the shock of getting fired had warn off and the reality had set in. I received a small severance package from BCFG, so I gave myself this week to wallow, but I told myself that next week I had to really get serious about looking for a job.

Today a small miricle happened...last January when I was looking for a job*** I interviewed with a small financial practice and they offered me a job. I turned it down because BCFG offered me more money and the BCFG job fit in a little more with my skill set. Amazingly, the people that I turned down don't hate me. Even more amazingly, they are still looking for someone and heard through the (extremely small) grapevine that I was no longer with BCFG and they are still interested in me. I sent over an updated copy of my resume**** today and we are supposed to talk again on Monday.

Remember that work-related Star of Bethlehem that I was hoping would shine on me? It seems that it has, but it's coming from a totally different place. I'm a very religious person, but don't talk about it much. The fact that this job is still available and that these people actually want to talk to me kind of feels like God is saying "Yoo Hoo!! This is where you were supposed to be all along. Will you listen this time?"

This song is a little cheesy, but I've been singing it a lot in my head lately--kind of a soft spoken, girl battle song. We probably all need more of those.



*versus over the phone while I am sitting in a parking garage just after a hair cut

**As long as it's not yours and your suffering from one of the worst monsters out there, post-postpartum depression, and you're crying (for example) because your husband made himself a sandwich but didn't think to ask you if you were hungry too even though you had been nursing a baby with colic for about 24 solid hours...not that that happened or anything...

***I still can't believe that I had to do this a year ago. This better not become an annual thing.

****Which I hope is not too long...its so hard send out a little piece of paper that is expected to represent you.

Something Good

I'm in the middle of writing a post about getting fired. It's not coming out right, so it's going to take a while. Even with only a few days of perspective, there was a lot of humor in the situation and I'm trying to peel back the layers of bad to get to that.

In the mean time--something good.

Ritalin LA did not work for Sweet Pea. In fact, it made her really sad and emotional and did nothing for the ADD symptoms. It was really hard to watch. Thankfully we have a really good pediatrician who listens, and shortly after Christmas we switched to Vyvanse . I think it is working.

Today was Sweet Pea's violin lesson, which has been the best place for me to observe her ADD. Watching violin can also be extremely painful because she just couldn't pay attention. Today I almost cried* because it was like seeing a different child. She is studying violin with the Suzuki method, which focuses on ear training and doesn't introduce the concept of "reading" music for several years. She is learning a new piece and today she was able to learn and almost master two complete musical phrases. In the past, we were lucky if she could pay attention long enough for about half a phrase (maybe 3 new notes). This was amazing. Although she's only been back to school for two days, her teacher has also confirmed that there is a change.

Nothing comes from nothing...nothing ever could... In the midst of an ocean of bad, something good.

**




*Granted, it does not take a lot to make me want to cry these days

**Yes, I am aware that this song has very little to do with the subject, aside from having the same title, but it's my blog and this is my favorite song from my favorite movie. As a little trivia; "Something Good" was written specifically for the film version and was written by Richard Rodgers after Oscar Hammerstein had passed away. I always think of it as a beautiful song between two friends.