Unemployment sucks. No two ways about it. All your dreams of sleeping in, having tons of leisure time...ptoof! Ha. Sucks. A long day sending out resumes and hoping the phone will ring and it won't be my mother asking for the 10,000 time how I am. I'm fine. I'm bored. I'm broke. I'm wondering WTF I'm doing with my life. Why did I leave journalism to try to be a lawyer? Stupid. stupid. stupid.
At my age, shouldn't something be gelling? Is my lot simply to never had a lot? (not to be read like alot)....Is this the end? Is this what I'm supposed to have?
13 has always been my lucky number. Married my 13th boyfriend. Lived in apartment 13 when I got my dream job--which was on the 13th floor. Its always meant the best for me (ok, that boyfriend thing didn't work out too well but that wasn't 13's fault)....So now we're in 2013. Trying to make my own reality. Just need to decide what that is.
Warning! Rudderless female. Pointless executive with too much education and time on her hands. What happens now?
