I'm actually doing better.

I still have no job, and had a melt down a few days ago in Office Max over twistable crayons. Crayons. I kid you not. They were a buck, too. What got me was thinking, 'hey, these would be great for my classroom. If I ever GET a classroom...', which set me off. It's another school year and I'm relegated to subbing. Again. I hate subbing, but you do what you have to, I guess.

I have a part time gig as a tutor at the community college. It's 9 hours a week, and I basically sit there and either read or write. I've started a few short stories, which is mildly exciting. I gave up writing after I graduated from college the first time because I was preoccupied with, you know, working. So this has been win-win, I guess... $11 an hour to sit in a high school level class and write my own stuff so it looks like I care about what's being taught. At least it's not a remedial grammar class.

I also have an hour in which I sit in the tutoring center and take students on a drop-in or appointment basis. Last Wednesday, after my first class, I had a pretty busy hour, what with the developmentally challenged student whose class had been canceled and came because he didn't know what else to do (which is actually a pretty good strategy, except he had no assignments to get help with, since, you know, his class was canceled) and a guy who wanted to know if I knew how he could get the information he needed out of a 100+ page reading assignment without doing the actual reading. He wasn't even a student at the college; he's in a Master's program at a local seminary college. And this was for a Christian History class. I mean, this is what you need to *know*. This is history. Facts. Events. Dates. Information that is potentially relevant to, you know, what you plan on doing for the rest of your life. There are no Cliff Noted for 2,000 years worth of triumphs, persecution, martyrs, dogma, Calvinists, popes, corruption, etc, etc, etc... And the best part was totally when the guy answers his goddammned cellphone in the middle of my friggin' advice. At that point I just wanted him out and contemplated telling him he'd make a really shitty priest.

The hubbs and I will also be moving in a few weeks to a place that's bigger, nicer, and cheaper, if you can believe that. $210 a month cheaper, to be exact. When you have very little in the way of an income, every little bit helps. We also discovered a pretty kick-ass thrift store today after "breakfast" (it should not cost a couple $12 to get two mochas and a piece of cake, but it was nice to get out...), so when we get into the new place we can decorate it a la shabby chic and not spend a ton. It would only be cheaper if it were free.

Fail.

It's been over a week since I had that interview. The only criteria for when I'd hear back was "soon". Considering school starts in less than 20 days, I expected "soon" to be roundabouts the day after the interview. Maybe the next Monday. So I'm operating under the assumption that I didn't get it... it's almost easier to accept that. I suppose after a while one gets used to disappointment.

Hey, speaking of disappointment, I had to grovel to my dad for money again. Well, it was less "groveling" and more like "hyperventilating over the phone while sobbing after he asked if we needed money". And since I hung up with him, I go through these swings where I can't stop crying (for once in my life I hope that's hormonal). I feel like I failed. I have always had this fear of failure, which explains a lot of my lackluster performance during high school; if you don't try, you can't fail. I partly gave up my dream of being an actress because I was afraid I'd fail (and partly because they never cast my ass in squat)... what do you do when you give up the unattainable dreams of your childhood for something more realistic, and you can't even reach that? And I never thought I'd be the one to play the numbers game, but I'll be 30 in four months and this is NOT what my younger self envisioned for my 30 year old self: sitting on the couch in the dark blogging about how miserable I am half the time while trying to hide it from the rest of the world. Jebus, no wonder I'm having a breakdown.

And that "part time" tutor job, the ONLY FUCKING JOB I WAS ABLE TO GET REMOTELY IN MY FIELD is frustrating as hell, and I haven't even started it yet. I have been scheduled for 10 hours a week. Okay, part time is part time. However, when those 10 hours are broken up into 2 hour segments five days a week, we have a problem. I'm not even pissed that MWF starts at 8 am. What I'm pissed about is the five day a week thing. And of course it's scheduled so that subbing is out of the question... 8-10 am MWF, 2-4 TR. School has either already begun or is about to let out by then. What. The. Fuck.

So tomorrow I will call the interview lady and discover my fate; I will then feed some cats for a friend, call the tutor coordinator and hope for the best, take another friend's kids to the pool, and pretend none of this shit is eating away at my soul.

Pray. Pray hard.

It's been a challenging summer, to say the least. I estimate that I sent over 100 resumes out this year, only to receive three rejection letters. Three. Rejections. The rest of them didn't even call. I'm not expecting freakin' flowers or a candygram... it would just be nice to know where I stand.

It's actually surprising to me that we managed to survive this long minus reliable income. My husband has been temping for less than $10 an hour whenever he can get it, and I've had to swallow my pride a few times and hit my parents up for help (I HATE asking them for money; it's not that they won't/can't/don't help... it's that I'm 4 months shy of being 30 years old and I have to run to Daddy when times are tough. I thought by now grown-ups had their shit together...).

Hopefully, this will change, and soon. I had my first (and only) job interview this morning. And because everyone else I know works, I've spent the day numbing myself in front of the television because if I think about this, I'm pretty sure my head will explode. I actually think it went well. I actually think I have a shot at this, and that's because it's not a regular school. It's an alt-ed program dealing with the fringe students who aren't successful in traditional high schools. And it comes with a real, grown-up paycheck. We're not going to be living in a palace on my salary, but I can at least afford the rent on this crapshack without dipping into my parents' retirement fund...