Thursday, March 29, 2007

Shout Out!

I had a really great interview today at the Physician Manpower Training Commision! I went in almost (ALMOST? right) panicking, and came out confident the job was mine. So, I have to give a SHOUT OUT to my interviewers, Michelle and Charlotte!! YOU GO, GIRLS!!!

God willing, I will either have won the lottery or be gainfully employed within the next 2 weeks!

See? This is me trying to turn my back on my giant-ass negative side.

Tuesday, March 27, 2007

Still Alive...

Oh, yeah, post number 397.

Haven't heard anything from the interview last week. Yeah, like I am. I've heard from some insurance benefits call center that may have a temporary Customer Svc position opening in June or July.

Sigh.

I think I need to talk to somebody. Because I don't want to work. No, no, no that's not quite true. I want to work on my own terms. Something that fits just me. Something where I can take off and travel (money willing). Something where I can be by the Hubby's side anytime he needs me, or I can go to doctors or therapists anytime I need to. Something fulfilling. Something I won't get sick of in six months, or make my skin crawl in a year, or do anything to disconnect (oh, like surfing the web at work when you're not supposed to, although everybody did it), no matter the cost. Kind of o-t, I've noticed my total cholesterol (God Bless the OBI!!) has gone down, still elevated though, since I got fired.

I'd still like to be someone like Erma Bombeck, newspaper columnist, used to be on Good Morning America - how cool would that be?! I could do it, too!! I know I can. I still say I could be the fat chick on the View. I could be a beacon for the fat, the depressed, the shy and the social phobics, the people without a voice who, on there own volition, fade into the background terrified of the outside world and the thought of interacting in it. Definately not easy, but I could do it. I ought to do it!

Sigh.

I just don't know how. You know, Good morning America or Dr. Phil could just come here, or call me, or email me and say, "Hey! How would you like to be on TV?!" (not unlike the ancient commercial: "Hey! How would you like a nice Hawaiian Punch?") SURE!!

I'd like to go back to college (though, geez, can we leave the math stuff alone?), but again, lack of money rears its ugly head. No, I won't do loans I can't pay off.

I mean, I don't necessarily want a degree (though, yeah, cool), I want to learn for the sake of learning. I want to look back and say, "Well, duh, I already knew that!" Because, sometimes, we have to be shown just what we're capable of.

Tuesday, March 20, 2007

No. 396 or Call Me a Melodramatist

Yeah, I'm still here. I still don't see a point to living. I still think I'm unemployable, and would rather win the lottery. But, for now at least, I have stepped back just a little from the brink of suicide.

I'm not going to apologize for what I wrote. It's what I felt at the time. No, sometimes this blog is all that's keeping me here. I don't have many friends, those I do have I don't want to bother with my problems. And even though they loom large in me, my problems are pretty minor in the scheme of things. So I write, well, spew it all out here. And I appreciate those who come back and read my drivel time after time.

I read this in yesterday's NY Times:
Washington
Proposals for Mental Health Parity Pit a Father’s Pragmatism Against a Son’s Passion
By ROBERT PEAR
Published: March 19, 2007
Two Kennedys are facing off over competing versions of legislation that would provide more generous benefits to people with mental illness.

I've been hospitalized once (an interesting 4 - maybe 5 - days back in the fall of 2005), and have been in outpatient programs twice (I prefer the ST Anthony's Share program to the Integris program - even though I prefered Integris' Dr. Chakraburty to the psychiatrists of ST Anthony's) and each time I've had to battle my insurance. Every time I've had to change my insurance, I've had to make sure I got the plan with the best mental health coverage, which still tended to be a joke. How many times I can see a therapist? Is the therapist/psychiatrist I'm already seeing covered? Are the meds they're giving me covered? Or what do I have to settle for? Will the med I had to settle for DO any damn thing for me? And why can't the copay be the same as my PCP?

So YAY!! YAY to the Kennedys!! I would prefer Kennedy fils plan to Kennedy pere's, but I'll accept either. But what am I saying?! I'm unemployed, uninsured, and SOL right now. What I wouldn't do for some Lexapro. And a job. But I'd prefer to win the lottery and not have to worry about any of that.

Sunday, March 18, 2007

No. 395

I've been thinking about what to write for post no. 400. I've been thinking it should be a "State of My State" message. But I'm not sure I'm going to be around for it.

I have a handsome, wonderful husband, with a crappy, debilitating illness. He blames himself for our problems. You know, Man Stuff. Please.

I don't blame him. I put the blame squarely where it belongs: ME. I'm the one who got fired last year. I'm the one who can get to an interview, but not past it. I'm the one who either considers herself too good for a McJob, or more likely, so shy the thought of being around people makes her physically ill.

I just want to crawl into the ground and die. I may be missed but things would be better off without me. Without me the Hubby could get the cheap electric, phone and gas. Or his son could move in with him. I know the M-in-L wouldn't cry much. The only bad thing is my son would probably be devistated.

I want to feel like I make a difference in this world, but I don't. I am NOTHING! And all of our money woes are my fault. I have a job interview this week, one next week, but you know I won't get the job. I'm tired. I'm just sooo tired. I think I need to squirrel away some of the Hubby's generic Xanax. He shouldn't miss it. One ought to be prepared.

And for anybody suggesting that this is just my depression: Yeah, So What?!! Getting help for my depression is just another thing that costs money! Me being a leech!

God! I'm disgusting!

Monday, March 12, 2007

No. 394 or Waiting for 24

Two more state job interviews coming up. Two more chances to booger up the interviews.

Have seen no jobs in the paper that trip my trigger. I don't want a call center job anymore, they stress me out too much. I want a job that has actual sick leave - and the taking of which doesn't count as an absence. I'd prefer a job that I like, but I don't see that happening. I don't want to work at Wal-Mart, or any fast food place, or Magic Bait (down the road from me - makes stinky bait for fish). I know that sounds kind of stuck up. Shouldn't I be taking anything to be bringing in money, even if it breaks my will to live? Am I being selfish? Does that matter? People tell me I need to take care of myself. Shouldn't I have a job that reflects who I am? But what the hell is it?!

Anyway, need to shut off, 24's about to come on. Will Jack get out of the Russian Consulate? Is everybody in the consulate involved somehow? Will President Palmer wake up and tell his Veep to shove it? How is the ex-president guy's wife going to be involved? Will the arab dude with the nukes learn he's really just a patsy for the Russian dude? And how are they going to find the Arab dude and the Russian dude? And will it be before his drones take off?

Let's go see......

Wednesday, March 07, 2007

Post No. 393 - AKA Trying Not to Cry

Didn't get the OSBI job. But, curiously, I am getting a 2nd interview at the place I didn't think I was qualified. They mentioned software they use that I don't even know what it is!

Damn! I said I wouldn't cry!

What the hell is wrong with me?! Why can't I get a job?

No, no, no, no, no! Why can't I just go ahead and win the Powerball, so I don't have to worry about money. So I don't have to worry about the Hubby taking the ultimate pain relief. So I can be with him instead of being 40 miles away at some job I'll just get sick of within 6 months.

Money is just sooo worthless, and yet it's all I need.

Maybe I should just lay down and die, too. But, no I don't want to die. Like I've always told my son, Life is an adventure. Not always fun, not always easy, but always an adventure.

My adventure is just starting.

Tuesday, March 06, 2007

The Hubby and I went to a pain management guy off of May Ave. and 63rd St. yesterday. What a freakin' waste of time. 2 freakin' hours there! Making the Hubby move in ways he doesn't really move anymore, telling me to be quiet, only to be told he needs to see a rheumatologist and needs to do stretching exercises (for parts that don't move anymore)! Muscle pain and arthitis, now go away! Who the hell does he deal with?! Addicts?!! Now he feels even more suicidal than before! And as much as I hate to say it, I don't blame him. A pain guy tells him he can't help his pain?! Christ!

I'm still unemployed, haven't heard NO from the OSBI, but I think it's still too early in their hiring process (kind of a long, drawn out thing). And aside from that, I don't even want to look for a job! And I can't tell you why. Just a lazy bum I guess.

Still worried about losing my car, though I don't really know why.

Still riding the kiddie roller coaster of depression (and still envying the manic phase of Bi-Polar disorder). I really would like to be on Lexapro, or so. But that's not going to happen.

And this will make post no. 392. Eight more posts to #400!