so many damned things
bug bites of some sort, potentially fleas again, and we've checked both cats but Patina doesn't get flea stuff because she doesn't go outside, and meanwhile I worry and I'm itchy and I don't want to go through another Fleapocalypse on my own.
My Alpha bald spot is still there.
My teeth hurt, which means I'm worried that I'm going to need serious dental care rather than the haphazard have-money-now I've been doing (meaning I've been once since I graduated).
I bought chicken thinking I'd make something with it and because it was on sale and I need to use it soon, but I am not in a cooking-real-things mood. It has to happen tomorrow, though.
I just spilled chocolate milk in the living room.
It's still pretty hot out, though not the terrible heat of last week.
I have so many things I have to do and I just keep reminding myself of them over and over, as if thinking, "I should rearrange the spare room," while I'm on the bus will make me feel better. It gets to the point that after something is done-- no, let's use the active voice here, after I accomplish something, I will still think I have to do it. My brain is just used to reminding me to do whatever it is.
Current subjob, the postsecondary support program, offered me a permanent position. So I had that to think about. I used to smile and say thanks, but I'm applying for other jobs and I'd hate to take a contract and then have to break it, but I've been... well, the The Job back in March broke me hard. I hadn't been applying a lot before then, but I haven't applied to anything since. That job was what I wanted and now it's hard to look for jobs that aren't it. I've forgotten how to do science. I've forgotten all the lies I told myself to make me feel competent. For those months, for those six weeks from the interview, I wanted that specific job, and I could see the path I had been walking for so many years.
Then I didn't get it, and we're back in the swamp of self-loathing.
And I've been offered this job permanently.
So there's that decision. I made it. One friend shrugged and said it sounds good-- she was surprised there's no pay raise at all, but yeah, it's obvious, I should do it. Another, who knows me better and has dealt with a lot of Sad Me, says it's a logical thing to do and supports me whichever I choose. The boy says that it's okay to take a year off jobsearching and do this instead.
None of this is exactly what's going on in my head. I argue with all of it and get angry that not everyone understands my brain.
The problem is that I managed to make the decision. I'll work there. I walked in and said, "Okay, so if you don't have anyone you really like from interviews, I'm in." There. I dithered and dithered and then gave them a firm deadline for my decision and it's made and it's done and I can be done with it.
Except there's a different procedure to follow, so they had to check that.
Except there's someone else in the district who has to be interviewed.
Except they need me to apply for the job formally rather than just calling and saying they're keeping me, thank you.
This last? This last sucks. I ended up being a bit unprofessional when describing my past positions-- under 'duties and responsibilities' for grad school, I typed, "SCIENCE." I couldn't type up all the things I did. None of them matter at all. I filled out the agree/disagree survey, hit the logical-thinking questions and got a calculator, pencil, and paper, wrote my little essay bits, and felt bad about myself.
Normally, this reaction to a decision would mean it's the wrong decision.
In this case, it's just the wrong everything. Take the job, don't take the job, it's all the same. The problem isn't the job, it's that taking the job means looking at everything I do right now, good and bad, and mostly seeing the bad.
This job doesn't show me the path I've been walking. I want the path back.