Suburban Bliss:: Birth Control Via The Written Word

Are you sure?

Today I spent about 24 minutes (including the time it took to google 'Creating an Excel Spreadsheet') fiddling with Excel and creating a spreadsheet to track my hours and earnings in my new job.

This only adds to my horrendous humiliation over the last interview where I was asked to create a spreadsheet with a formula and could not do it. What I did instead was humiliate myself by admitting my limitations and driving directly into a brick wall outside the office.

And to think, all of that could have been avoided if I'd spent 24 minutes looking at the program prior to the Interview From Hell. I am ridiculous.

I can typically be really hard on myself. Perhaps I'll mail myself a check and become my own professional mistress. I may as well since I beat the crap out of myself mentally every single day. However, in fairness to myself, I didn't actually have excel at my house at the time since my laptop died and was being replaced at the time.

I'm sorry mistress.

The new job is hardly a 'job' but it's making me some extra cash which is making me feel more productive than my cats, (as Angela would say. I'd show you the specific post she said that in, but she doesn't have permalinks. They're against her religion) because I'm earning actual dollars.

I'm doing some office type work for a realtor couple who happen to be the grandparents of one of Max's best buddies who is also named Max. So far it's going well, except that one of our cats has developed a frightening addiction to rubber bands.

Some of the work I'm doing involves rubber bands and one of the cats can smell rubber bands where ever they are. Often, she'll sit at the window sill crying out and yearning for the office supplies at the neighbor's house. So far the cat has destroyed 2 manilla files and several envelopes in her quest for the rubber bands. She must have the rubber bands SO HELP HER!

In honor of this [fingers] job [/fingers] I've gotten, I thought I'd share a little about another of my worst jobs ever.

At some point in high school I started a job as a telemarketer. Technically we were selling a safety kit, and a portion of the proceeds would go to charity.

I'm not much of a salesperson. You either want to buy what I'm selling or you don't. As you can imagine most people don't want to buy things from a telemarketer. Because telemarketers are even worse than the spam-bots. At least spam doesn't talk and interrupt your dinner and make you angry!

I made a few calls that first night on the job and the response was a little lackluster. Ranging from polite declines to angry refusals. But then there was the call where I realized I should just stop making calls and never go back to this horrible place once my shift was over.

I asked the gentleman if he was interested in our safety kit, a portion of the proceeds go to an excellent cause. He replied, "No".

Because I was such an amazing sales person I quickly flipped through my salesperson file of tricks and shot back, "Are you sure?"

Are you sure? That was my attempt to seal the deal?

I've come up with the subject of the book people seem to think I should write!

"Are you sure? Little known sales techniques which will make you run screaming from your job!"

Unfortunately, the approach was shockingly ineffective. The man on the other end of the line said, "Uh....yes, I'm sure."

Since I'd used all the tricks in my bag, I was left with no options, "Okay. Good bye!"

i've gone from mommy blog to unemployment blog

I just plowed through 261 pages of job postings. I have as of today sent at least 50 resumes out. This doesn't include the resumes I sent out before I started recording each one. I've interviewed at just six places and have yet to get a single job offer. I'm taking it personally.

I did locate a plasma donation center. Conveniently located on the very edge of Detroit, but don't worry it's on the suburban side of the edge. Max can sit in my lap while I sell my plasma.

Logan and I keep saying this set of years will go down as some of the darkest in our lives, in our marriage and in our life as a family. Sometimes we look at how things are going and how we've arrived at this point and it almost doesn't seem real. Sometimes we pretend it isn't real at all. And we're both shockingly good at denial.

It's not that our marriage is falling apart or that our relationship with our children isn't as strong as ever. It's all this stress we're constantly under. We can't get out from underneath it. It's a steady stream of soul sucking stress. I just hope that one day we will be able to look back at this time as something other than what it is now. Saying we'll look back at these years seems to imply that things will be different and I know everyone, including Logan, thinks that's true but I'm totally and completely deflated.

And you know, when I say Logan loves his job but doesn't feel compensated for the amount of work he does? And remember all that email I got telling me how horrible I was to want to tear the joy from my husband's life in the name of money?

Let's try to keep in mind that this is a public website and I can't exactly vent about my husband's job and share his vents about his job because as neat as it would be for me to get my husband Dooced, it's certainly not worth it.

But trust me he has complaints about his job. And I'd like to share them with you...but I can't because it's 5pm and I am at the beginning of the illness that's been roaming through my house and I have to go make dinner because 'Mr I Love My Fucking Job And My Wife Just Wants To Suck The Joy From My Life' is at the office finishing up a project because that's the kind of worker he is. He stayed until 11pm and 12am three out of five nights last week and he's been at the office since 11am this morning.

I'm sick, exhausted and still unemployed!

Diamond Encrusted Toilet Bowl Brush.

When I said Logan needed another job, did you think I wanted him to be happy at his next job, just paid what he's worth?

Because that is so totally not what I meant. I meant that I won't be happy until I am rich, FABULOUSLY RICH with a diamond encrusted toilet bowl brush...make that TWO diamond encrusted toilet bowl brushes!

Did you think I wanted him to stay in his field, maybe just designing for new clients? Because that's not what I meant. I meant I wanted him to sell his soul to the devil and become a LAWYER. Because designing at a new job with new clients and being paid what he's worth would still leave him happy...and I do NOT WANT HIM TO BE HAPPY.

Did you think that I meant that Logan could move his career forward within his field and would quite possibly find the satisfaction of more responsibilities and perks and more money in a new position? No no no. I won't be happy until I suck every last bit of joy out of his bones. That diamond encrusted toilet bowl brush isn't going to buy itself with 'Happiness'.

Believe me it's not easy to try and make Logan unhappy but I'm working very hard at making sure I take away all the joy in his life.

Thanks for the lovely email from the one person who understood what I was saying, it made a pretty shitty day feel even shittier!

I used to wonder why Dooce would let her hate mail bother her. I thought to myself, 'People are just mean and nasty when they're jealous. You're fabulous and everyone else thinks so. Screw those assholes.'

Then last night Logan, whom I had chained in the basement for his nightly Joy Depleting beating, said the exact same thing and I felt horribly misunderstood and frustrated and I realized why hate mail bothers me. (I realized this after I beat the living crap out of Logan because my goodness he seemed awfully happy yesterday and I can't have all that happiness rolling around!)

I throw myself out here warts and all and I make myself very vulnerable by doing so. Hate mail is misguided hatred from someone who doesn't understand that this is a website and one is not required to read it. It really shouldn't bother me, since these comments are many times from people who think they have it much worse than me and are therefore irritated when I have the nerve to feel any dissatisfaction with my life.

Unfortunately, the satisfaction in my life doesn't come from knowing my life isn't as shitty as anyone elses. I feel bad for everyone's shitty situations that cause them heartache and stress and worry. I may not want to read about their struggle to come up with the way through those things, but then I just don't read their fucking website.

I'm so glad I got that off my chest. Logan will be happy too because maybe tonight I won't have to beat the joy out of him with as much vigor.

So I had my interview yesterday afternoon. When you have an interview, do you feel like you're interviewing the place as much as they are interviewing you?

Because this time around in the job game I know what I'm looking for pretty clearly. I know what I need to be happy in a position. I need a part time position first of all. Logan travels a lot and works late a lot of the time and has a thriving freelance business, so my 'career' has to fit within his.

I do not want a full time position which is shoved into 29 hours of work because 'that's what we can afford'.

I don't want to sit through an interview where the job is outlined in excruciating detail and I'm told over and over 'this position is obviously far more work than what we can pay you for'.

I don't want to hear the fiery anger at the last girl who just 'up and left' because there's usually a reason people 'up and leave'.

I don't want to hear about how horrible the members of the synagogue are. I don't want to hear how bitchy Mrs Fineman is and how if the bar mitzvah for Mrs Greenburg doesn't go off perfectly there will be 'hell to pay'.

I don't even want to plan the Greenburg's bar mitzvah.

Perhaps she was trying to scare off the people who don't really want to work for far less money than the work they're doing is worth. Which absolutely worked.

It's not that I can't deal with impatient or angry people. I can. (I'll just make fun of them on my website to let off the steam.) It's that I want to work somewhere that holds a little less animosity toward the people it serves.

It was also a little troubling when I was introduced to the other members of the office staff and one started openly weeping and begging me to take her home and the other one didn't even look up from her work and only waved in my direction.

My office did have a window and part of me really wants a window in my office. Part of me just really wants an office. Part of me wants this skirt which Logan and I agree would be a lovely reward for getting a new position.

But then she said if I wanted to work there I would have to eat babies! Can you believe that? First the Episcopalians and now this.

Keep the job prayers coming. It's really important I continue to suck the joy out of Logan's life and my part time job is an integral part of the master plan.

Buried

I have a lead on a job. In an office. Without customers. Without potpourri. Without having to work every second my husband is home in order to make any significantly helpful cash.

Instead I would work during the day like normal people do. Max will go to daycare and unlike Madison I think Max would really love daycare. Things to do all day long! Because he and I find one another boring in general. In the past this wasn't an option, working during the day, for several reasons. Paying for two children in daycare would eat away at any take home pay I would make, Madison would never have adjusted to daycare well, she needs lots of down time and likes the slower pace of at home life (like her mother).

I have a referral for this job and I am absolutely qualified to do this job and I am currently furiously reading about resumes and using your 'non traditional' work in your resume and I'm making myself totally insane while I try to send out the resume and cover letter which will get me this job because I can taste this with every one of my tastebuds.

I need this to happen because applying for, and not getting, several minimum wage jobs has beaten my shaky self esteem to pieces. I've begun to resent Logan and his limitless talents. He designs, he makes champagne cage chairs, he draws, he decorates cakes, he likes people, he's nice to everyone, he draws blueprints for homes.....could he share some of the marketable skills over here?

Pray with all the power of the internet I get this job. This job that in 6 months I'll be quietly (I'm not about to get Dooced) hating because that's how I am...never happy. But at least I'll be hating the job and cashing a paycheck, unlike now when I loudly hate my job but don't even get a paycheck.

I'm a real people person.

Once a month I work in Madison's classroom.

Each time I work in her class it all starts out just fine. I think, "These are very sweet kids." and I'll think, "I love this teacher." and I'll think, "Maybe I should have gone ahead with that elementary ed major."

Then about 5 minutes into it I start to think, "What the fuck is wrong with that boy?"

Then I'll think, "Please, don't let that girl raise her hand....doh! Maybe if I ignore her. Maybe if I don't look at her she'll go away."

Or I'll think, "Wow, I hope that little girl gets her period soon...maybe the pms will go away then."

So then, in my private personal dialogue I'll think to myself, "You being a teacher would have been a crime against humanity."

In other news I've been applying for lots of stupid jobs and I've been spending a lot of time lying to get these jobs.

Many of the jobs I've been attempting to get ask the most ridiculous questions meant to 'test' my temperament...I guess.

"Do you generally think people are good?"

Answer I gave: "Oh yes! Of course! I love people! I'm a real people person!"
True answer: "I don't know if they're good or not but I generally don't get along with people."

"When someone is walking slowly in front of you....are you agitated?"

Answer I gave: "Oh no, of course not. I like to take time to smell the roses you know."
True answer: "Oh My God! Yes! That drives me crazy!!! Why can't they keep to the right or something!"

148 questions all answered with LIES! All LIES! (I am not kidding. 37 pages with 4 questions on each page.)

I distorted reality through these endless questions and all the while I had the sinking feeling that maybe the reason I have to lie to answer all these questions is because a retail position is not the right job for me.

While I answered the questions ("Would you say you're at your best while under stress?" Why yes! I love stress! I mean just look at how I handle my two relatively well behaved children!) I started to think maybe I should try to find a job in a dark basement without fresh air or light or even people.

The best came at a brief interview at a store which smelled of the cheapest of the cheap potpourri. As I filled out the application (more lies!) the smells filled my nose and made me throw up a little in my mouth and the vomit was so full of bile I burned a hole in my cheek.

During the interview the manager asked me, since they get dozens of applications why they should hire me over any of the other applicants.

I stared at her thoughtfully, considering this truly poignant question. Also, I ran through about 40 responses I truly wanted to blurt out at her through the bile induced hole in my cheek.

"You should hire me because let me see, oh that's right! I hate people!"

"You could hire me because, I don't know, I have a pulse?"

"Let's see why should you hire me....well, I shower daily."

But what I ended up saying really dazzled the manager.

"I really don't know why you should hire me. The thought of working here makes me want to grab that disgusting potpourri you're selling and shove it up your ass."

You'd think that would have put a big red flag on my application but no, she called for a second interview and I think Logan must have called them and told them I forgot my medication and will they please give me another chance because I actually love potpourri and especially Robert Kinkade things in all their varied forms.

Why does he hate me like this?

The thing is, me working retail is nearly as bad for humanity as me being a teacher.

What kind of job can I do in a dark room without any contact with people?

Has everyone seen this?

Because this is hilarious.

Also uncanny because this is exactly how I act during interviews.