Oh Hey!

It's bit a while. I know this, you know this. We'll blame it on busyness but that's a lie and you know it.

So here goes honesty:

I downloaded Scrabble on the Kindle, had a dark moment, played some more Scrabble, slept a bit, played with my puppy, Scrabble, puppy, Scrabble, Scrabble, wine, Scrabble, new fall premieres on the on-demand and I went the the gym a few times.

Yeah, since my interview I've been offline for the most part, the rejection is beginning to eat away at the soul just a bit. Scrabble is the 99 cent cure. And Al is always beating me.

Today I have a list of things to do, post office, Costco, cleaning, gym, cleaning my room, a shower so instead of doing those things I'm here!

So I've become insanely unproductive. What of it?

Grasping the Glimmer

Hope has a funny way of shining through even when you least expect it. I put in my notice at the dreaded retail job and applied myself to applying to jobs. Got a near immediate hit, woot! Interviewed today, woot! And can see myself making money now, being happy, moving away eventually. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Hope is the interviews, my friend Katie and I each had one today and are praying that it's the out we've each been looking for. My birthday twin started his trudge though retail hell today, for a good cause, he's back in school, he'll finish it soon enough and be back to work in the real world.

So we each have our little taste of hope. And it is sort of a fleeting taste, now that things have started rolling we take a passive role in respective fates. Hoping. Waiting. It's enough to make one drink. But maybe tomorrow night, tonight we're broke.

Want to get a Drink? Otherwise known as The Dating Boomerang

Living with one's mother and working two jobs isn't really great for the social life and all. So how does a boomerang date?

It's an experiment I've actually decided to try.

A few months ago my mother decided to try her hand at online dating. She so enjoyed the attention that she suggested I try it. I used her match.com profile to see who happened to be trying the online thing in my area. I found tons of "eligible" bachelors in my age group, a bit of research showed that all of the folks on the internet are one of two things: Creepers and Gingers*.

It didn't take long for my mom to tire of her experience and offered up the end of her subscription to me. I took a look again. Still creepers and gingers, only this time I saw a familiar face. It was the brother of a guy I hung out with in high school and later dated briefly in college, newly divorced and looking. That sealed it. The internet is not for me.

My friends offered to set me up with someone, I agreed, but said blind date has yet to occur. I've been promised to meet this fellow no later than my fiends' wedding. And I look forward to meeting him and all but I am slowly ageing every day.

I go to the gym as a means of meeting people. I also do it for health and fitness reasons, which in someways makes the meeting people thing harder.

Everyone has suggestions. Everyone has solutions to the dating thing. And now I'm interested in a guy. And thats normal and all but everyone has suggestions ideas of how to make this work, not that it isn't working itself out. This guy and I, sort of. It's tricky but then again people my age don't really date well so tricky is ok. My favorite advice, other than I need to get over myself, was from my younger sister. She said, "Don't be too serious. You're still young." It is ironic advice. But good advice nonetheless.

Trial one (?) of this experiment is a go.

*Sorry Ginger friends, not a fan. I have enough sunburn in my life as it is.

Sleep Deprived and Accident Prone

I shouldn't whine about working, as I continuously chant my mantra "Happy to have a job." But the news says things are turning around and all I'm seeing is more of the same thing. Also, working all the time has made me a bit short and craven of routine (I just wanted Monday to be like Monday, is that so hard to do?). My seven day a week schedule has me so messed up by 8:30 PM I'm staring waiting for the clock to strike an appropriate sleep hour.

Even with seven or so hours of sleep a night I've become accident prone. We have the previously discussed ankle/screw injury, yesterday a mysterious crescent shaped laceration appeared on my palm (today it is purple and really sore), and then this morning in the shower I discovered a long bloody gash down the back of my right arm. It had scabbed so it wasn't terribly fresh, but with the exception of the short time it took me to get into my pjs yesterday I had been in long sleeves for 24 plus hours.

I fear my car is next or I'll lose an eye. I've turned into a weepy mess any time I'm alone but I'm agitated when people are around. Every night I sit on the couch and turn on the tele thinking it's Thursday. No lie, Monday I even asked my younger sister why the normal Thursday programming wasn't on.

I now know why there are people who drink heavily everyday. I can't, my jeans are a large enough size as is, but the idea of continuing on like this is disheartening, the future is bleak. Basically I fear I've dug myself into a hole of resignation and will live there working two part-time jobs, living with my mother and lamenting both of these things for the rest of my life.

Some days this fear is motivation, some it is just the opposite but I need a change, if only to keep my mystery injuries at bay.

My Mail Is Getting Rather Adult

When you are a kid you always want more mail. This is probably a reaction to the type of mail you receive as a child, invitations, cards and presents, an occasional magazine, perhaps. Then when you get ready to go to college you receive all kinds of colorful brochures, you get letters saying that you're generally awesome and they want you. You receive a few rejections for the same schools who said you were pretty nifty but you also receive an acceptance to keep you from sinking too low.

But recently my mail has turned very adult, no self-esteem boosting letters from colleges (though I did just get an offer letter which was a bit cool), no birthday cards, no birthday party invites (f u facebook for taking over mailed invites!). But I am getting more mail then I have ever gotten before. I get the occasional bank statement, credit card offers (not even good ones) and every once in a while I'll get a credit card offer from my bank.

Not to long ago though my adult mail became a tad more fascinating. I received two cans of formula from Similac. Then last week with my alumni donor pledge card (I won't be giving sorry JMU) I received a thick envelope from some university. I opened it being super curious about its content. It was a survey, they wanted to know about how I fed my babies, all kinds of breast feeding and formula questions. I tossed it, sad, not because I don't have any babies so the survey wasn't relevant, and confused because I don't have any babies (why do they think I am feeding babies?)

Maybe my mail is sent by my grandmother who I believe I have disappointed by not having babies yet at my old age. But more than likely the world has confused me with the other Megan Wiseman out there. The manager at my gym did (kind of, rather he recognized the name and not the face because I didn't go to high school with him because he is something like eight years my senior).

Oh. The joys of mail, come back to us!