...and we're back.

Germany was awesome. Unfortunately, we couldn't find work, and didn't have the time or money left to stay, so we're back in the US.

This means I'm back in the same situation I was in before: clueless as to what to do for money. Oh, but wait! There's a twist: now my architect's license has expired, so I'm even more unemployable in the field than I was before. (I knowingly let it expire, because I couldn't justify the $300 to renew it when there's little chance I'll get a job using it.)

I managed to make it to the age of 36 without ever being fired or laid off, so this has taken a major toll on my self esteem. The longer this drags on, the less confident I am in my ability to do anything. Even though I was in a field I absolutely hated, I am desperate to go back, because I feel like a complete loser being unemployed. It's a little too similar to an abusive relationship, except that with a relationship, remaining single is always an option. Remaining unemployed is not. (No, I'm not trivializing abusive relationships. I'm just bad at crafting decent analogies.)

As always, art is not a career option, because I like having health insurance. And money.

Not What I Expected

I got laid off from my last architectural job in April of 2010. Although I hate the sentiment "everything happens for a reason" on a molecular level, I believe that having the decision made for me, in this case, was a really good thing. Given the choice between continuing on in a career field I hated to the point of physical illness, just to maintain a steady paycheck and some illusion of security, or venturing into the Great Unknown, I would have chosen the paycheck.

I was let go 2 weeks before a (planned) major surgery that would leave me unable to work for 6 weeks. When I was ready to start looking for a job again, I realized I had become permanently unemployable in the architecture field- I mean, who wants to hire someone who hasn't worked for 2 months? Such a person is obviously not a good choice, if nobody picked them up for 2 months (Sarcasm Meter set to "kill")!

I managed to obtain one interview for a Project Manager position, and put on my best (though completely false) "I'D REALLY LOVE TO WORK HERE" face, but they must have seen right through it. Applying for positions below my experience level have proven pointless.

This summer, on my birthday, my Architect's license will expire, and I have no intention of renewing it.

You might think, from reading this, that I am completely depressed and hopeless, but I assure you, that is the farthest thing from the truth. In two months, my husband and I are moving to Europe. I can honestly say I have no idea what we'll do for money past the 90 days' worth we have saved.

I can't wait. :D

What Do You "Do?"

That question. I hate that question. How I pay my bills does not define me, much as I wish it could.

What do I do?

Why, I am a cerebral prostitute.

I whore out my brain for money, M-F, 8-5.

While my brain is otherwise occupied, performing tasks that slowly strangle it in a gray shroud of boredom, my body is forfeit, as it is forced to sit in a chair during that time; getting fatter, slower, more useless. A month ago I started Metformin, because, at age 35, I have insulin resistance. Despite the fact that I sit all day, I am exhausted beyond measure. This body is a carcass, transporting the golden whore-brain to and fro, rather than a living thing. My hands shake constantly. I can't even remember the last time I felt "right."

I am on the "last-resort" antidepressant, an MAO inhibitor. It comes in patch form, and every morning I rip off the patch, and a good portion of my skin, to replace it with a new one.

For the last several months, while I've been away, I made the mistake of listening to the slew of "follow your bliss" bullshit artists, whose line is "do what you love and the money will come." Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. By all rights, I should have gone even more insane from the stink of it. If I had in my possession the physical amount of bullshit I've wasted my time reading, money would no longer be a problem.

You know how they've managed to "follow their bliss and the money came?" They sold volumes of fix-your-life fallacy to suckers like me, who are searching for a little bit of hope.

I am that idiot who bought into the "get a real job, be a grownup, ignore every true thing about yourself" line; believing that being an artist would be the impossible way. Now, I will drag myself onward; waiting to die, always regretting having lived.

ARgh.

Trying to fix template.

Not working.

Liking WordPress better all the time.

Always a bad sign

It's always a bad sign when I start blogging at the office.

I (made the mistake and) watched a program about Alzheimer's disease. The show, and it being Sunday night in general, got me started on a pretty heavy doom spiral. Some days I feel like I'm just biding my time until I find out what is going to kill me.

The leading contender is stress, being overweight, not eating right; and the resultant heart disease.

From how my GI tract has been acting, cancer of the pooper seems a likely second contender (of course, that could just be related to the stress, as well).

Third, we have the whole vast list of unknowns. Alzheimer's (early-onset is the one I'm concerned about), cancer of various regions, etc., etc.

I'm doing my damndest to try and squeeze some joy out of this life, but Monday mornings just make it difficult. One good night of sleep just ain't doing it for me. (That would be Saturday night; since I'm still too drunk jacked up from work to sleep on Friday night, and Sunday is...well, The Day Before Monday.)

Well, crap on a stick.

Things are just not going well today. The server at work has crashed- permanently.

I find it somewhat ironic that a similar situation caused me to start this blog; 4 years ago:

The server at work blew up.

Dammit

I was trying to get rid of the damn AdSense bar, and screwed up my template in the process. This place will look like ass for a little while, until I can find my old template code, and fix it.

If I can find my old template code.

If not, a remodel will be in the works!!