If worrying was a superpower, I’d have it made.
Today I feel like a zero. I don’t look like a zero. At least not yet. If I keep eating the way I’ve been, I may resemble the shape of a zero. Obviously I could never completely look like one, since I have organs and stuff. Organs are good. We’ll keep those.
Why zero? Let’s examine the numbers. My income for the past two months? Zero. My bank account balance? Zero. The amount of assistance I am currently getting? Zero. The number of interviews I’ve had? Zero. My fitness level? Close to zero.
Not everything supports my theory. The number of jobs I’ve applied for-oh way way more than zero. I wish my self-worth could be proportional to my clothes size. That is definitely not zero.
This is one of those days where I have to keep smiling through the tears. Trying to find the humor in the situation and blog about it. After all, I need something to feel good about. The job boards have all the same jobs that I keep applying for, and I wonder what is wrong with me? I almost wish one of them would call me and say “Hey, this is why we won’t hire you. This is why potential employers won’t even call you. We don’t like you. You worked for places that nobody cares about. You have mispellings on your resume. You said you have excellent compuper skills…” You’re a miserable human being, you’re ugly, you smell bad, and you dress funny… ok maybe that’s a little much.
Another day where I can sit and berate myself all day long for the choices that I made years ago. Yay.
I’m certainly no supermom. I can’t even say that I’m particularly good at being A mom. I’m glad my kids love me, that’s for sure. My housekeeping skills are less than stellar and I’m not a great cook. After the dinner I served last night, they should take away my Mom license. It’s probably a good thing they don’t hire you for motherhood, or issue a license, or even give a test. I can’t remember to take library books back, or get the mail, or even pay bills. Right now I am sitting at the library, looking at jobs online and blogging while my daughter does story time. I am the only mom not over there with the kids. She doesn’t need my help-and doesn’t want it. She wants me to leave her here like I do her older brother.
Yeah, I’m no superhero, more like a superzero. While superheroes can swoop in and save the day when needed, I am the one who would show up and contribute absolutely nothing to the situation. I can worry about it like nobody’s business, but I can’t do a darn thing about it! My superpowers-SUPERANXIETY! Superdistractibility! Able to jump to a conclusion in a single bound!
My husband is the real superhero in the house. If it weren’t for him, we’d live in a box. He drives two hours a day, works long hours on little to no sleep, fixes things when they are broken, keeps the kids and dog in line, and somehow manages to stay in a semi-conscious state in the evenings. I hope he knows how grateful I am for everything he does, even though he probably just want me to just go away and leave him alone a lot of the time!
I won’t be applying for a Superhero license of any kind any time soon, unless I get bit by some sort of radioactive mosquito. Guess I just need to work at being a human being.