Nice work if you can get it

After months of unsuccessfully looking for a new job, I now feel qualified to get a job writing job descriptions:

EXECUTIVE ADMINISTRATIVE CUSTOMER CARE TECHNICIAN 

Must have 20+ years experience in the executive administrative customer care technician industry.  Must be proficient in Microsoft Outlook, Word, Excel, Powerpoint, brain surgery, electrical engineering, souffles and Mandarin.  Experience with Yetis preferred, but not required.  Must be able to lift 40 pounds, for no reason other than we want to watch you lift 40 pounds.  We offer a competitive package, which does not include any money, but likes to start fights.   We offer 401k, paid time off, life insurance, Lucky Charms and a ham at Christmas, but only after your first ten years of employment. 

Perhaps even more delusional and comical than the ads are "Employment Agencies".  I put that in quotes because I don't think that phrase means what they think that phrase means.  I am currently signed up with four different agencies and not a one has yet to send me out on an interview. (I would prefer to think of this as a deficiency on their part, rather than a reflection of my mediocre resume, disappointing skill set and decrepit age.) They ask you such irrelevent questions as:

EA:  What is your dream job?

ME:  Working in a harem by day, in a rep theatre by night. I like to keep busy.

EA:  What is the most money you'll take as salary?

ME:  I won't accept a penny over $3,405,984 a year.

EA:  Where do you see yourself in 20 years?

ME:  In a nursing home.  Who the fuck sees themselves anywhere in 20 years??  Most of us are   just grateful we still see ourselves in the mirror every morning.  (Though some mornings, not so much.)

EA:  We'll be in touch.

ME:  Yeah, whatever.

I actually had a lady from an agency call me today and tell me I shouldn't have answered the ad they posted, because they are only a temp agency.  Well, if the ad had said it was a temp job, I wouldn't have applied to it and it would have saved her making that phone call, which neither of us particularly enjoyed.  Communication makes it happen, people!

But I am serious about that harem thing, because I look good in veils. 

What, me worry?

Yes.  A lot.  Some days more than others.  Guess if this is one of those days. . . . Congratulations, and thanks for playing.

I am proud to say I am an Equal Opportunity Worrier.  I worry about the future.  I worry about the past.  I worry about the present.  I worry if I'm not worrying.  If I'm not worrying, I worry about what I'll worry about next.  If I'm not worrying, I worry about WHY I'm not worrying, etc., etc.  I even worried that I had blogged about worry before.  (So I checked and I hadn't.)  (But what if I just didn't notice it??? ooohhh. . . . . )

I know worrying never makes me feel any better.  Nor does it ever solve an issue I am worrying about.  And I honestly do make an attempt to talk myself out of it.  Some days that works better than others.  Guess if this one of those days. . . .Congratulations, you're two for two.

Some days I think my brain barrels into Worrytown just because it can't think of anything else to do.  Maybe if I start doing random mathematical equations in my head. . . .hahahahaha!!! (I thought I'd throw in a little humor.  You're welcome.)

Like many other of my lesser loved attributes (my extreme shortitude, the curly hair), I have embraced my propensity for worry and accepted it for what it is.  It's part of who I am and I have learned to not take it too seriously. 

Now, if I could just figure out how to parlay it into a career.

"World Wide Worrying.  Tired of endless worries?  Let me take them over for you!  As a Certified Worryologist (member of W.U.S.S., Worrier's United Secret Society),  I can absorb your worries and allow you to get on with productive thinking; giving you the peace of mind that your worries are being tenderly and lovingly nutured in a completely Organic Paranoid Environment, free of pesticides and chemicals {okay, I do actually use chemicals, but I ain't advertising that!}.  Call today for your free quote!  (Wait, let me make sure my phone is charged. . . yeah, okay, you can call now.  Please????)"

All I need is a jingle.

I'm Forgettable

I went to an employment agency today.  It's the second time in two months I've been there.  Seems they lost all record of me being there the first time; the guy interviewing me muttered something about "changing systems".  Yeah, well, whatever.  I'm not taking those damn tests over again, dude, you better find those scores from March.

This doesn't really surprise me.  I'm the kind of person who tends to fall between the cracks.  When I was a kid, there were a couple years in grade school where my teacher never remembered my name.

                                                LAST DAY OF SCHOOL

Me:      Bye, Miss McClellan.

MM:     Bye, er. . . .Betty.

Me:      Yeah, well, whatever.

I have people who I did shows with in the last 5-6 years ask me if we've ever been in a show together.  Yes, I played Aaron in Titus Andronicus and the covertible in Thelma and Louise. 

A few years ago, when I was in the torrential downplay improv troupe, J'Mel and I were at Rojo and some guy came up to J'Mel and told him how much he loved td.  J'mel pointed to me and said, "You know she's in the troupe, too."  The guy looked at me confusedly and said, "Oh, yeah.  Hi, er. . . Betty."  It's nice to know I make an impression on stage. 

Hey, wait.  Maybe my name really is Betty and I'm the one who doesn't remember me.  Ow.  My head hurts now.  Let's forget that theory.

I should really use this attribute to my advantage, work for the CIA or something.  Except that when I want to be invisible, I usually end up falling down (loudly), effectively blowing my cover.  Sometimes I just fall down for the hell of it, to keep up my skills.

Anyroad, I was very gracious about the employment agency forgetting about me, cause I'm not one for burning bridges.  But I do think the least they could do is find me a job.  That pays a lot of money.  And that I'd do well.  And I'd like.  And where they would remember who I was from day to day.  And they would also give me free unicorns and rainbows, because who am I kidding???  Those things don't exist! 

Anymore than I do, evidently.  Oh, well, whatever.

Love,

Betty

Parenthood (part four, I think)

Remember what a shock it was when you first had kids?  Okay, I probably shouldn't write for you, so I'll just say this for me. I was overwhelmed at first.  I mean, I had been pregnant for nine months and I knew I eventually wouldn't be pregnant anymore and a baby would be here, but I didn't realize how drastically it would change my life.  F  O  R  E  V  E  R.

I had changed careers, had people I love drop dead on me, gotten married, discovered the Beatles:  all these things changed me forever in a small way, but not like having kids did.  I felt like I became a completely different person when I became a mom, like suddenly my life seemed to matter more.

Now, I realize that maybe one of the reasons I felt that way is because of all the low self-esteem baggage I've carried around all my life.  (Although, I am happy to report that instead of lugging around 3 steamer trunks, 2 suitcases and a make-up bag, I'm now just sporting a backpack.)  But there is something about holding new life that you created and staring into those little blue eyes that just does a number on your heart and it never beats the same way again.  

Reading over this, it seems rather simplistic; like next I'll write about how air is nifty to breathe; but next week is Mother's Day, and, coincidentally, my first-born's birthday, so it's been on my mind, and you know I tend to spew forth whatever is on my mind, so there we are. 

Just be grateful I didn't blog during my Macarena Obsession.  And Happy Mother's Day.

I'm Back

Hey, pals.  Long time no blog.  But, like a bad penny, I've turned up again.  (What makes a penny bad?  Why do they turn up more than good pennies?  Discuss.)

After my show closes next week, I will be on a "break".   (That's a Theatre Term for not getting cast.) Since I have been in rehearsal/production since November, I guess I'm due, but I can't say I'm looking forward to it.  (I mean, I can, I'm physically able to say that, but, oh, never mind….This is what happens when I haven't blogged in a while.  L  I'm sure I'll get back in the swing of things in a paragraph or two.  Please bear with me.)

Anyroad, I will then have oodles of downtime and I'm not very good with downtime, because I tend to let it get me down.  I can never quite stamp out the feeling that I'll never get cast again, which leads me to doubt my acting ability, which leads me to doubt my self-worth, which leads to some long, lonely evenings.  But, the depressedness (Is that a word?  It is now.)  of that last sentence aside, I am basically an optimistic person.  Usually about other people's lives, not my own, but, I've become cautiously optimistic about my own life of late.

It feels weird.

In spite of all the crap I've been through in the last ten years (not to mention the 50 before that), some really good things have come out of the last decade:

1.         I re-discovered my love of theatre. 

2.         I made some wonderful friends.

3.         I learned that giving all your money away to guy who says he loves you but doesn't is not a good idea.

4.         I learned I'm okay on my own.

5.         I learned that no matter what kind of fuckedupshit gets thrown at me, I am a helluva strong woman with an amazing sense of humor and that will get me through anything.

That last one is kind of a biggie.  And, admittedly, there are days I struggle with that concept,  

but fewer than there used to be. 

So I will survive my break.  And, at some point, someone will cast me in something. Maybe.  I hope.  Sure they will, sure they will. . . . .

Birthday Musings

Well, this isn't the blog I expected to write on my birthday.

Yesterday, at 4:45, my boss and office manager called me into the conference room and once again yelled at me for a mistake I made last week, mentioned another mistake I had made in December, told me I didn't seem happy and told me to look for another job.  Technically, they didn't fire me, but it was like your spouse telling you they want a divorce.  Technically, you're still married, but. . . well, you know. 

I know this isn't the end of the world.  The end of an era, maybe, but not the end of the world.   Right now, though,  it's pretty damn scary.  The job market is not exactly booming,  My skill set is not unique.  And my advanced age is not working in my favor.   I live hand to mouth and my hand is shaking like hell.

I will get through this, as I've gotten through all  the other crap that's been flung at me.  But I've had better birthday presents. 

It's a Date (I lost track of what number it should be)

The following mini-paragraphs are actual descriptions of four of my "perfect" matches:

I'm a man that love GOD, family, and loving 2 others as well. I attend church regularly, a member o na, drug free and continously growing.I love longs walks, gazing at the stars, and cuddling (*query*  Who are these "2 others"?  Would they be part of our relationship??)

I am looking for women to have some fun in bRIMINGHAM Al.I am 5 feet 10 tall and I am about 215 Lb Hazes eye black and gray hair.So of you are looking for a men send me a email. ( Sadly, I do not live in "bRIMINGHAM", but I am a sucker for hazes eye)

im 5 9 167 lbs s&p hair dont do drugs am on dis like camping fishing bowling im just plain ole guy likes people likes cooking out or going out some an good movies  (*query*  Do you mean "I am on dis website" or "I am on disability?  Is there a difference?)

I have been single for a long time, I guest it time to move forward in life.  (guest you'll be moving foward without me)

I know these websites are for entertainment purposes only (much like horoscopes and IRS notices), so I don't believe that real people write these.  I mean, they are written by real people, but people that are paid to do this, (like writing jaunty verses for greeting cards) not actual people looking to date actual other people. 

I've recently been on a couple of dates with guys I met online, and it ended up just depressing us both.  Which I did not find entertaining.    

So I guess I'll just stick to making quasi-witty snappy comebacks to my perfect matches. Or maybe I could get a job at one of these "top-notch" dating sites, writing this schlock:

am having been divorce loan time now and ready to moo on.  I like going out but am okey if u wont to stay homo, 2

Yup--I have found my new career. . . . .