It started with a bad day.
It always does, doesn’t it?
I woke up a little late, greeted a friend at the front door in a white tee shirt with no bra, visible nipple and bed head.
Not sure which was more mortifying.
It was humid.
Like HU mid.
I got my period after breakfast.
That I told myself I shouldn’t really eat.
But it was in those little multi-pack boxes so you reason, well it is diet-sized.
I almost got hit by a car as it was speeding out of a parking space.
There was no good music on the radio.
Then I tried to place a 13 dollar order for Scholastic books online.
And my credit card wouldn’t go through.
Because, as I would soon find out, TWO of our credit/debit cards were hacked.
Then Adele came on the iPod, singing about how life is so unfair.
You know, a typical Adele song.
And I lost it.
I put my head down on the keyboard of my computer and sobbed.
After ten minutes, I pulled myself together and Googled PART TIME JOBS BLOGGING.
Apparently, I felt I needed to get a job because of all of the above.
Including my period.
After some investigative searching, I found two jobs and applied to them without a second thought.
One was for a freelance writing position.
The pay sucked but the job sounded amazing because I love to write and feel like it is the only thing I am qualified to do any more.
The other was a retail stocking position for a major department store.
The hours are very early morning, weekdays.
The pay is good, it is perfect in every way except that it isn’t what my heart would want.
But it would bring money in and I do have 14 years of retail experience.
That ended in 2002.
I hit the submit button for the writing job at 12:25.
I got the rejection email at 2:15.
Unfortunately, we are unable to bring you aboard at this time. We base
our criteria for acceptance on a variety of factors, including, but not
limited to, quality of writing and knowledge of a topic.
Yes, it says the quality of writing.
For the application, I submitted some of my “work”.
From my blog.
So they were responding to my writing.
The writing I was so proud of, that I even told a friend ” I think I will get the job”.
I was cocky.
I got this.
I didn’t “got this”.
I wanted to leave the world’s most public break up letter to the company on every form of social media known to man.
So it started with a bad day, the grumbling, the rumbles.
Of my insecurities.
Why am I still doing this?
I have said for years, I am paying my dues, earning the right to become a decent, respected writer or blogger.
Someone who will get paid for this gig.
Because as much as I love what I do, I wish I were getting paid.
I have people (outside of the blogging world) ask me all the time about how much money I make blogging.
Oh, occasionally I would get paid ops here and there.
VERY here and there.
But nothing to make me say, I get “paid”.
I have tried, believe me, without trying to sell out.
I don’t want to sell you all out here.
I believe what you have to look at on this page, besides my words, is important and I just don’t want my blog to start looking like the blog equivalent of Times Square.
And it is by now that I naively thought I would be making some money when I started in 2010.
Nothing to keep me in jewels or furs.
I don’t wear jewels or furs, by the way.
It’s an expression.
Just enough to pay for all the cheerleading fees and the OT visits.
Or so that we could finally save for college.
Or go on a vacation that involves a plane.
Or get the good mac and cheese.
By the way, 86 bucks for a weekly co-pay to an OT.
Because it falls under mental health.
WHY IS THIS COUNTRY SO MESSED UP?!?!
Because of stupid high deductibles.
That is why.
This glaring reject letter/email is the first of many, I am afraid.
I knew they would come, I have delved myself into motherhood for too long I fear.
I am not relevant anymore.
I get it.
I tried not to let the rejection email get me down but it did.
I make a good impression in person.
NOT on paper.
Which is pretty hilarious considering that I write a blog.
If you read my resume, you would laugh.
Titter for sure.
I know people who bulk up their resume and have not had a job in years.
Yet their resumes look amazing.
I need someone to do that for me.
Because mine is a who’s who of useless information.
For example, I wanted to apply for a job at my daughter’s elementary school.
It is a temporary position filling in for maternity leave.
Just a few months to get my feet in the pool, make some money and be close to my child so I don’t have to worry about transportation, etc.
The computer application process wants to know the supervisor of my latest job.
My latest job was in 2007.
Do you think she is still there?
In fact, I have no idea what her name even was!
Maybe I could just put THAT on the application.
Yes, her name was Kim something or other.
She was really nice, liked me a lot but she could stand to smile more.
It hit me like a ton of bricks.
I am screwed.
I have an Associates Degree in quasi Education/Pre-Nursing/ Kickball.
I haven’t worked full time since 2000.
I haven’t worked part-time since 2007.
I have no skills worth writing on a resume.
Yet I have been toiling at this blogging realm for four solid years.
I can help you design a blog.
Edit HTML in a pinch.
I am kicking ass at editing pictures on Pic Monkey.
And I FINALLY learned how to take a screenshot.
Can I put that under certifications??
I can write a piece about your business, corporation, doggy daycare in less than a half hour and it will be funny without selling you or myself out.
I could write a mission statement that would make Jerry Maguire pick up the goldfish and come work for ME.
SCREW YOU BOB SUGAR.
I can also keep a house clean, get all the laundry for the week done in three days and have a casserole in the oven at the same time.
I can menu plan and coordinate meals, snacks, and lunches for our entire family for two solid weeks in a matter of 15 minutes.
I schedule our families lives down to the minute with a calendar system that would make SOMEONE HIGHLY ORGANIZED piss their pants.
My kids are happy, well adjusted, smell good, and have clean clothes every day.
Can I write all THAT somewhere on a resume?
Yet I am irrelevant when you look at my life’s work on a piece of paper.
Such is the story for a lot of you out there, I am sure.
So I am at this crossroads.
I might look good in person but on paper?
I am a hot, steaming mess.
So if you know of someone who is looking for a humor writing blogger who can wipe butts while checking on her smartphone how to defrost chicken in a crockpot?
Let them know I am their girl.
Just don’t give them my resume first.