Yes, I’ve Been Avoiding You

Frankly, because I have nothing nice to say, and even I’m tiring of my incessant whining. Things are, sadly, pretty status quo. I did go to the physical therapy school open house, and I could get excited about the chance, if it weren’t for figuring out how to go to school full-time and be able to earn a living. Suggestions are welcome.

So you know that cliché advice, if you don’t have anything nice to say don’t say anything at all?

Well, I’ve decided that I won’t be blogging until I have something nice to say.

We’ll see how long this silence lasts.

Almost (But Not Quite)

So I got my first job offer in seven months. And then I didn’t.

Feeling low-balled by the salary offer—which came in about $9,000 below what I said I was looking for—I tried negotiating, which the hiring manager wasn’t interested in doing. And so that was it.

Now this job was far from my dream job, but still it was something—but someone gave me a great piece of advice about not wanting to start a job already feeling undervalued, so I’m trying to take comfort in that. But while I keep telling myself, something is coming that will be the right fit for you, it’s getting harder and harder to believe.

In the meantime, I have my open house for the physical therapy program to look forward to next Monday, and there were brownies in the kitchen at work, so at least I don’t have to spend money to soothe my damaged ego with some sweets.

There’s always a bright side, I guess.

How to Get Out of a Bad Mood

Yeah, I'll own it: the past few weeks I've been a bit of a bitch -- to my husband, my family, to strangers on the street -- and often for no apparent reason other than I feel like it.

It's not cool, I know, and I try my hardest to stifle it, but sometimes it gets the better of me. I'm not dumb enough to think that purposefully hurting others will make myself feel better, so I'm not sure why I let myself get away with such antics. Just because parts of my life suck right now doesn't give me license to act this way. Plus, it makes this blog -- purported to be about beauty and comfort -- a total trick. There's nothing beautiful or comforting about the way I've been acting.

So I set out to change it. How? By turning to the Internet. (Much like that kid in the most recent Google commercial.) Here are a few gems I found. (Sorry, did that sound bitchy?)

• Do yoga
• Listen to relaxing music 
• Start a blog 
• Spend time with people who make you laugh

Well, I've done all those things... I go to yoga at least once a week; I'm currently listening to some David Darling, and all it's doing is making me wish I was at a spa; um, hello! -- blogging right now! -- and finally, my husband, who I see on a daily basis, can be quite funny (most of the time).

And as I'm sure you can gather, none of these "tips and tricks" have worked. So short of asking my doctor for some Lexapro, I'm at a loss of how to get out of this what-feels-like-a-month-long funk.

I wonder: How do you get out of a bad mood? 

And it doesn't need to be beautiful or comforting advice. Who knows, maybe what I really need is to punch someone in the face.

I Feel Like I Owe You an Explanation

So I know I’ve been kind of vague lately about my life plans and “rearranging my blocks” and whatnot. I’ve been hedging on revealing exactly what I’m thinking about doing because, well, you know how once you say something out loud that means you actually have to follow through on it? I’m a little scared (and sad) to have to follow through.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about making a complete 180 on my career, and going back to school to become a physical therapist’s assistant. It’s a two-year, associate degree program that I could complete at a community college. It’s obviously a complete change from what I’ve been doing for the last 10 or so years, but given how dire the job search has been I’m feeling the need to pursue a profession that’s more sustainable. I could go into a long tirade about how journalism today isn’t the journalism I signed up for in college, but I won’t because the only people who really care about that are my fellow writer friends who are feeling the same sting of the changing—and more often than not—declining landscape.

So why become a PTA? Three reasons: I could complete my degree in a year or two, make a decent living, and it’s a much more transferable skill to a city other than New York. Physical therapy is something I’ve been doing personally, and to great success, and I like the idea of a day-to-day that’s more active than just sitting at a desk all day. But I’m only mildly interested it. It’s certainly not my passion in life, and definitely not in the way that writing is (was?).

And since I’m being honest here, another reason I’ve been hedging on making this transition is because I feel like I’m giving up on something I love. I liken it to the feeling I got when my high school boyfriend broke up with me before he went away to college. I knew it was the logical thing for him to do, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t sad about it. (For the record, this is a metaphor. I love my husband, not my ex-boyfriend from 15 years ago.) The thought of leaving writing and editing behind truly makes me sad, to the point where if I thought about it long enough I could probably shed a tear over it. Maybe.

Some folks have been quick to point out that even if I do pursue PTA school, I don’t have to completely give up writing—I could still freelance, after all. And blog. But it’s more than that. It’s this notion I have that I’m “giving up,” and I’ve mentioned before how I don’t like it when Life beats me.

And so...

I wonder: Any advice for me? Do I pursue PTA school or continue in the manner I’ve been in?

Goodbye, Ruby Tuesday

Starting in September, I begin working a full work week. That's right, Monday through Friday, five days a week, just like the rest of you working stiffs.

Which means today was my last Tuesday to myself. (Due to an upcoming Labor Day vacay, I'm choosing to work next Tuesday.) And I'm really bummed about it. Tuesdays have been my day to either act like a housewife doing laundry and cooking dinner or to act like an Upper East Side socialite meeting friends for lunch and getting pedicures (as I did today). On Tuesdays, I actually could be the free-spirited woman Mick Jagger sings about in "Goodbye, Ruby Tuesday" and do whatever I wanted.

And that has been beyond helpful to my sanity over these last few months, where my life and career seem to have been stuck in limbo. Not having to run errands after work or on Saturday meant no frustratingly long lines at the post office, always having the big washer available at the laundromat, and my pick of the freshest produce at the grocery store. It also meant plenty of time for job hunting, freelance pitching, and blogging with no interruption (or guilt, as is the case on the days when I am on the job, getting paid by the hour). Plus, it's been incredibly rejuvenating for my weekends, which could now be completely dedicated to more time with my husband, family, and friends due to the lack of aforementioned errand-running.

But just to be clear, I am by no means bemoaning the fact that I will actually be making more money, at least for the month of September anyway, when the gig is up. And hopefully, should I actually land a job in the meantime, it will be a nice segue, rather than an abrupt thrust back into reality.

Still, my experience really makes the case for a four-day work week, which multiple studies have found increase productivity and worker satisfaction. If I'm ever a boss, I'm sooooo implementing this.

Photo: Print Company

I wonder: What would you make of a four-day work week? 

The Cover Letter I Really Want to Write

Dear Sir or Madam or HR Manager (I never know how to address these things),

I am applying for the job you posted but understand it is probably a waste of my time. I will spend hours customizing my cover letter to you only to hear absolutely nothing in response.

My experience will meet close to every one of your requirements, but for reasons unbeknownst to me, I will not be called in for consideration. I know this, and yet I still try, in the vain hope that maybe this time I will get through the stack of applications filling your inbox.

Though truth be told, maybe it's partially my fault. I've gotten lazy as of late, copying and pasting pieces of previously written cover letters into one Frankenstein-like document. But really, can you blame me? I'd like to meet the person who isn't a little beaten down after seven months without a steady job, and certainly not due to a lack of trying on her part.

Anywho, my resume is attached, and I hope to hear from you soon, though I won't hold my breath.

Sincerely,
Me

How Life Is Like Tetris

I was playing the game on my phone while on the subway the other day, and I had everything lined up perfectly -- and I mean that literally. I had my blocks set up so that the square block that was coming up to play next would give me a full-on Tetris. (For the uninitiated, a true Tetris is when one clears the game of all the blocks.)

I thought, Oh my god, it's coming. It had been so long since I had cleared the board (first time in the mobile app), I was actually excited. How would the game congratulate me, I wondered dorkily. With my next move, I will have set the bar for myself, which is equally exciting and frustrating in follow-up games.

So I moved the block into position, and swiped it down. It landed, complete with the sound of the game's trademark thump, in the wrong spot. One row off to be exact. God dammit, I exclaimed, ever so softly but still out loud on the train. I had blown it. I got cocky, and wasn't careful enough. I spent the next 10 or so minutes of my ride trying to fix my mistake, and while I made some inroads I never did get close to that full clear. I was legitimately pissed.

And then it got me thinking about how my day had gone similarly. I found out I had yet again come thisclose to getting a job, but got beaten out by another candidate. Like last time, I thought I had nailed this one, but when all was said and done, I came up short. One row off, you might say.

Still, I thought, the game isn't over. While writing an article about how to effectively re-enter the workforce, I interviewed one of the authors of this book, who said the following, which has stuck with me throughout my employment limbo:

I do think it’s really useful to understand the macro-factors that are hindering you, because that’s also what’s going to help you make better choices. One of the main principles we talk about in the book is the idea of "try harder." It’s advice that so many people give over and over again when you’re stuck, and trying harder is often the absolute worst advice you can give someone. When you find yourself putting more and more effort into something that’s getting less and less results, that’s not a signal you should keep trying. It’s just the opposite.

The point being, it may be time to attack your problem from a new angle. 

So I'm thinking it might be time for me to find a new way to organize my blocks in life. I have a few ideas, but they won't be easy, so if I'm really going to do it, I need to full-on commit. And that, my friends, scares me.

I just have to keep reminding myself the game isn't over.

Photo: The Neurocritic

I wonder: Have you ever rearranged your blocks in life? How did you do it? 

P.S. I'm on vacation next week, so any radio silence here doesn't mean I've fallen off the blogwagon again.

Two Years

That's how long experts say it takes a person to get over an unexpected, traumatic event, like a divorce or job loss.

TWO YEARS. 

That sounds so long. And depressing. (It's worth noting that death is not included in this estimate. Getting over something like that typically takes longer.) What's more, these experts say you shouldn't try to expedite or deny this two-year process because that only postpones the inevitable day of reckoning. "After all, it takes time to rethink all the things that may be disrupted by emotional trauma, such as one's living situation, finances, professional goals and—maybe most important—how a person sees him or herself," Elizabeth Bernstein writes for The Wall Street Journal. (Ed note: I had no idea the Journal did these type of touchy-feely stories.) "There aren't any shortcuts. 'The whole sweep of your life has to be reassessed and rewoven,' Dr. [Prudence] Gourguechon says."

Makes sense. But still. Two years? That amount of time shocked me. That's 24 months, or roughly 730 days. Talk about dwelling on the negative.

I guess the good news is that given my crappy year-and-a-half, I'm halfway done with the drama.

I wonder: Do you agree that it takes two years to get over a traumatic event?

2013 Was Going to Be My Year

That is soooooo not the case.

I had such a crumby 2012 that I was convinced 2013 would be great. It had to be -- it was owed to me. I started the year off hopeful, but by February, it was quite clear 2013 didn't think it owed me a thing. It started off with receiving some not-so-great-health news, followed by losing my job (six months later I'm still technically unemployed), then my cat died, the IRS came calling for a couple grand due to a prior mix up, and most recently my best friend moved to D.C. Now yesterday, I found out I didn't get this job that I really, really, really wanted.

Wah, wah. 

Sure, there have been a few bright spots, but by and large 2013 has sucked just as bad -- if not more -- than 2012. I'm so ready for 2013 to be over that when people ask my age, I reply 34. (I'm 33.) I don't do it on purpose (unless you're 20, who ever wants to get older?) but I think it just speaks to how ready I am to move on from this year, this age, and this phase of my life.

This all sounds more dire than I really mean it to be. In fact, recapping all of this, I kind of have to laugh (and believe me, I haven't told you everything). Oh, Life, that fickle frenemy. For all the crap it's thrown at me in the last seven months, it's at least shown me that losing your job isn't the end of the world, I'm stronger physically and emotionally than I've ever given myself credit for, and yes, taxes really are as certain as death.

Speaking of strength, I do still have one holdout hope for 2013: this is the year I am determined to do an unassisted pullup -- maybe even two. Trainer Chad keeps telling me he knows I have the strength to do it, I just need to get out of my own head and make it happen. Easier said than done, but I am hopeful.

Photo: CentralMass.org

Randomonium

Because when I did a Google image search for "random," this is what came up.

Aaaah, it has been sooooooooo long!

I've missed this blog, and even recently found out that I have a few dedicated readers who I've been disappointing with my absence. (Hi Emily, Katie and Janet!) My excuse? I've been busy. Even with only working part-time. (I'm always sort of blown away by how running a few errands can eat up an entire afternoon. How did I do all this with a full-time job? And at a startup, no less.)

But alas, today I have some time, and feeling inspired by my friend Ilyse, who recently started her own blog chronicling her adventures in her new home base of D.C., I made a point to write today. There's actually been a lot I've wanted to write about in the last few weeks (month, really!), but never managed to fully form thoughts about. Here are a few of those thought-provoking topics: 

5 Things Parents Need to Stop Saying to Non-Parents 
I've heard some of these comments, and always thought I was being overly sensitive in being annoyed by them. It's nice to know I wasn't.

Women Who Keep Their Maiden Names Aren't Necessarily Feminists 
I just like my given name, okay? It has a certain ring to it.

Temporary Jobs Becoming a Permanent Fixture in U.S. 
This one hit home, because being in a temporary gig -- as much as I enjoy its flexibility -- is stressful for a Type-A personality who always needs to know what's coming next. It's a bit frightening to me that this could be the future way of the workplace.

Are Suburbs Where the American Dream Goes to Die? 
I like city life, but there are elements of suburbia that I miss. Like Target. A patch of grass that's all mine. Driving. (Until I drive, and then I hate it.) I'm known to sometimes romanticize suburban life, and this news doesn't make me feel good.

And so that's it. Hopefully one day soon, I'll actually have time to read an article, form an opinion, and then write about it.

But until then, it's been nice catching up.

I wonder: What's been on your mind lately?