Going Nuts

I can't believe that, as of today, it's been five full months of unemployment. This has never happened to me before. I suspect that there are many others like me, who were sure they'd get a new job pretty quickly after being laid off.

Yup - five months. And 209 resumes sent. That's scary. The good news is, about 12 resumes ago I was finally asked to interview for a position. Usually I get no response at all, so I was ecstatic to get an interview last week. (Heck, I was happy just to go somewhere.) The meeting went amazingly well. I was sure I'd nailed it. I came out feeling convinced that I'd get an offer.

That was a week ago. No offer yet. The waiting kills me. However, I still have all my fingers crossed (which makes it hard to type).

If I don't get a job soon I'm going to go stir-crazy. I've begun volunteering at the local cat orphanage, helping out with adoptions, feedings, cleaning, etc. So at least I have some interaction with other people (and more kitties - yay!). But this job called job-hunting requires too much indoor time and too much sitting. It's incredibly time-consuming. And it can be de-motivating when continued efforts yield zero results.

Being a person of pretty high energy, I am not very good at sitting still for extended periods of time. So this whole being unemployed thing is my own living hell. It's getting so bad that whenever I see New York City scenes on TV I just want to cry. How pathetic is that! There is most likely going to be some kind of therapy on the horizon for me.

On the bright side, I've really bonded with my cat, Baby. She's so cute. When I open a drawer anywhere in the house, she comes running. She could be a mile away and hear the drawer slide open. It's important that she crawl in it (or behind it) in order to see what might be hiding in there. If it's a clothing drawer, it becomes an insta-bed.

With all the time I've spent with her lately, I'm learning her language pretty well. I know when she's hungry, and when she wants to play. I know when she wants to be scratched, and when she wants a brushing. Fortunately, unlike Martin (my previous kitty, may he rest in peace), she doesn't have a need to "go out," so there is no whining by the front door.

But she does love attention. She's very dog-like. She follows me around the house, joining me in whatever room I've parked myself in. Sometimes she does this staring thing when I'm sitting in my favorite chair. (That means, "Get up and play with me!") She loves to play-fight and chase me around the apartment, too. She's a sweet little girl. I'm so glad I found her.

One of my good friends in Seattle, Janet, lost her sweet cat (named "Blue") to diabetes less than two weeks ago. I'm sure that Martin is looking after his soul. Janet had Blue for 18 years, ever since he was just a kitten. I know how she feels. Losing a pet is no different from losing any other member of the family. It's not an easy thing to get over. I don't think my mom ever got over losing our boxer, Ginny, in 1979. Neither did our cat, Kitty, who died not long after Ginny. Probably of a broken heart.

I told Janet that she needs to run out and adopt another one (or two) right away. Honestly, it's the best treatment for pet separation anxiety. Just find another one to rescue and love.

I wish it were as easy to find a new job.

Off to bed, only to wake up tomorrow in my sixth month of unemployment. Yikes!