Bundle of Nerves!
Today is the day. The Interview. For "The" part-time position. I want it. I don't want it. No I want it! I need it. Oh, shoot---if I don't get it, who cares?
It wasn't meant to be.
Or was it?
How in the dickens did my life change so rapidly? Just one week ago I was sitting at this very computer contemplating what I would be doing that week and the next thing I know I am making arrangements for the next month that completely change my life. Again.
If I don't get some stability I am going to go insane. I want roots. I have moved so many times in the past years I honestly can't remember all the addresses. I have had more phone numbers than some small cities have in their entire telephone directory.
Change used to be fun. I used to love moving into a new apartment or house and begin to make it a home. The possibilities were endless. We never had to replace or change our furnishings--we never got tired of them because they were always being recombined in some new and different way. I loved to decorate--to watch a lifeless room take on the character of me and my family. There was a challenge and I never had to get bored. And if we stayed in the location long enough--I would rearrange the furniture. For something different.
It must be age-now, the idea of relocating is torture. Even this move, where we are only returning to the home I fled last March in search of some peace of mind, carries with it an ominous gloom. Packing, sorting, carrying, moving, unpacking, unsorting, trying to find lost articles---it is an old story to an all too familiar tune--been there--done that.
It wasn't that long ago that I was settling in where we are now. I remember the journal entries. I remember the hope. I also remember the conversations between Keith and myself regarding how long it would be before we would once again be forced to return to caregiving on a full time basis.
And so here we are again. Right back where we started from. The only difference is I am a little older and a lot more tired!
I didn't get the job
I had to stop writing earlier---as you can see by the above, I was beginning to ruminate. So I stopped and just willed away the time until the interview. Which went something like this:
Yeah. Right. I think I was complaining earlier that they didn't have the courtesy to call me and let me know the status of the application. Now I have a different gripe! Why on earth set an interview with someone who works downstairs just to tell them the job is not available at this time? I can honestly say I was/am in shock. It does not compute. Any of it.
It just feels like a dirty trick. Oh-on the other hand, I was told that I was on the top of their list if the position should become open.
Dad is due out of the hospital at any time. I still don't know if he is coming straight home or going to rehab. Now I don't know if I will even have a job.
It's kind a funny when you think about it. I was pretty ambivalent about taking the position when I thought it was available. Now that it is not--I am crushed.
Guess I would have just like to have had the option!
Journal Homepage
Journi
Copyright @ 1998 by Journi