You are currently browsing the category archive for the ‘fear’ category.

I know that I haven’t written in a while . . .a good while. And I normally start my postings off with job search related material . . .but not tonight. Tonight is different. I didn’t find my dream job . . .not yet anyway.

So why is tonight different? Well . . .it’s because of the day I had. And the questioning that goes with the day I had.

For years, I feel almost as if everyday is a “bad day.” A bit of a pessimistic view I know, but I kinda feel that way. The song “Bad Day” by Fuel, kinda of sums up the way I most days. S*** happens everyday. Sometimes its terrible like you total out your car in an accident, a family member or friend dies, getting your a$$ chewed by your boss for an hour for something they did and not you, having overdrawn your bank account and pay-day is 10 days away and you have no food or gas. Sometimes its breaking the heel or sole on your shoe, being 5 mins late for work, or forgetting a loved one’s birthday.

Sometimes you feel like absolute dog s*** and there isn’t anything you can do and sometimes you feel that way because there was something you could have done.

This week, I partook in an action in which I feel that I flushed all of my overpriced education down the drain. I knew better than to participate in this action, and yet I did so anyway, because those that were encouraging me to partake “knew better” or knew more about this particular area than I did. Or did they, because I “knew better” than to do this action.

There comes several times in everyone’s life that you have to stand up for something that you know is right or know to be true . . .or at least somewhat true. While making the decision whether or not to go along with this, I debated and expressed my concerns over this action. The information was there black and white . . .refuting my knowledge. And yet, I still “knew better.”

While I have been going over this in my head all day, it is making me question my career choice . . .whether or not I can do what it is that I have educated myself to do. In a situation like this hindsight is always 20/20. Yet I didn’t need hindsight to tell me the outcome.

There is a time when the student becomes the teacher and yet I still feel like I need to be mentored. So did I pick the right profession if I can’t do the right thing?


Resumes sent out this week: 0

Applications submitted this week: 0

Interviews scheduled for this week: 0

Thing I am most grateful for today: Storm Chasers (yes the tv show)

Yesterday I posted that I can’t wait for my life to start . . .or at least my post-graduate life to start. And by post-graduate life, I mean dating life. I was waiting to move to another place and start dating. However, since moving right now is out of the question, I have to start now or never.

Also yesterday, I asked how I was going to go about this. I posted on my Facebook account that I was looking for a bargain basement man. I got a few responses from a couple of friends. One was to go to Electric Cowboy (a chain cowboy bar). However, the Electric Cowboy in my town has actually turned into a cowboy bar. And you know that cowboys have a saying “No Fat Chicks!” So. . .let’s move on from that.

My friend David suggested that I deserve better than a bargain basement man. I told him that what I am looking at ain’t looking back at me . . .therefore I must bargain basement bin dive. I love you David . . .but let’s get real.

Another friend told me that I should find a guy in prison. Her rationale was that I could have all the fun (conjugal visits) without all the mess. I told her that I simply love her idea of practicality, but her romance was dead. No way did I want to have sex in a gray 8’x8′ room with only a bed that numerous people have had sex on. YUCK!

So . . .how am I gonna go about this?

I posted this little online story on my Facebook today

I know we should drop the stigma of online dating. Like we should drop the stigma of mental illness or homosexuality. However, by participating in online dating I feel as if I am setting myself up for failure.

Some of you are asking why. It would probably appear that I have nothing to lose so why not go for it. Well. . . there is more at stake.

I have put up profiles on various websites. I have responded to various personal ads. And well . . .there hasn’t been any success. In fact, I feel as if I am a failure at love anyway. So when I find a guy on a personals ad, that seems to be pretty interesting and you send him a message and you get no response. And then you take a look at those men that looked at your profile and you feel a bit repulsed . . .I mean what about this does say failure . . .seriously.

Ok . . .I did say I want a bargain basement man. So what is my definition of a bargain basement man? Well, its different for every girl. Basically start out with your ideal man. I tend to go for the general tall, dark and handsome. Add a dash of muscles and outdoorsy-ness and a pinch of a man who isn’t afraid of hard work you pretty much got what I am looking for. Bargain basement version of this man would be tall, not dark and so-so in the handsome (personality makes up for that though) department. Muscles are vague, outdoorsy . . .well maybe not as much as I would like and someone who could still do some kind of hard work (like yard work).

So the term bargain basement man, is pretty harsh to say the least. I really don’t know of any man who would want to be considered a bargain basement man. And with this analogy I have decided that I am not ready to date! Therefore, off the market again to work on myself! YAY!

(In case you didn’t know, I am secretly afraid of dating. I look for any reason that I need to work on myself and take myself off the market!)

Resumes sent out this week: 1

Applications filled out this week: Still 0

Interviews set-up for this week:

Thing I am most grateful for today: Living upstairs

Thing I wish I had the most today: Outdoor cat

Thing I fear most: Snakes!

As I am writing this, there is a snake in my backyard . . .well it was out there about an hour again, so I migrated to my bedroom on the second floor. I realize that snakes can climb. Maybe not stairs by trees at least. Fortunately, there aren’t any large trees in my yard. And I am hoping that they can’t slither up vinyl siding.

I am afraid of snakes like some people of afraid of heights, or water, or spiders! While I feel that sometimes facing your fears can be a good thing, I also feel that not all fears need to be faced and conquered. And I am happy not to conquer this fear.

Why you might ask? Why should I not conquer this fear of snakes? Well, my answer my not be genetics, but I feel it was instilled in my at birth.

My mother has always had a healthy fear of snakes. When she was little she was a bit of a priss. She didn’t get dirty, unless she was gardening. While she and her siblings spent summers with my great aunt and uncle in the country, country critters weren’t her thing.

As a child she spent time in the hay barn and tended to some chickens, yet she stayed out of the hay loft. My cousins and uncles though one day it would be a hoot-and-a-half to play in the hay loft one afternoon. To their delight, there was a snake up there. Whether the snake was dead or they killed it is debatable at this point in time. But, the truth is, there was a dead snake . . .what could they do with it? Wouldn’t it be fun to play a trick with it?

My mother it seemed would eventually be the target of this trick. As she was exiting the barn below, my cousins and uncles dropped the snake from the hay loft door.

My mother vividly recalls the feeling of the dead snake as it wrapped around her and fell to the ground. She was paralyzed with fear and couldn’t move. She screamed and peed her pants at the same time. Her scream was so loud that my great-aunt heard it in the fruit and veggie cellar 3 acres away. My great-aunt came to my mother’s rescue. And wiped away her tears, got her a change of clothes, and beat the s*** out of my cousins and uncles.

Ok, with that being said, how does my mother’s story relate to me? Well thankfully I never had to endure what my mom went through. Yet, when confronted with a snake I have the same scream-at-the-top-of-my-lungs-paralyzed-with-fear-pee-my-pants kind of reaction. And I would be happy to never overcome this fear. And while fear is not something that can be passed through genetics, I believe that my mother’s fear is so strong, that something in her very being changed. And that change was passed to me.

What do you think?

Resumes sent out this week: 0

Interviews this week: 0

Applications this week: 0

Thing I am most grateful for: Ramen Noodles

I stand at crossroads and not sure what to take. If I listen to Robert Frost, I would take the road not travelled. Yet the road not travelled requires more money than I have. The road that has been travelled costs less, but keeps me further from where I want to be. Life just sometimes sucks.

Maybe I should look at this as the unanswered prayer. True I do want to stick around where I live to be closer to my grandmother in her final months. However, who knows when those final months will come. She says she has been dying for 4 years now. She doesn’t have cancer or some other kind of rapidly mutating disease (well, she does have Congestive Heart Failure, but its at the beginning stages. She isn’t quite glued to her oxygen yet).

If I stay here, I will need to find a job. Samantha has proven that is increasingly difficult. Samantha, who has a MBA, recently applied for a part-time teller position at a bank, since there really isn’t any need for her degree. My degree has even less potential here. Trying to find a third part-time job is also proving impossible, unless I want to work retail. Right now, I can’t work on my feet as much as I would like. I hurt so bad every night I come home and have been working more than 5 hours on my feet.

Getting out of Dodge was not to start over or find the man of my dreams (which I don’t think I will find here). It was to see how other people live. To see how other people in this country move within a culture (like eastern seaboard culture or Californian culture). I figure I will be different, I will stand out, but I have always been that way.

I haven’t applied for work for the past week because I am simply afraid. I am afraid that I will not find what I am looking for, or that I will find it and be too sacred to accept it. I am also afraid that if I don’t act soon, the road will no longer be crossed and I will have take what I can get. And I am tired of being afraid.

As we speak, Aiden and Samantha are downstairs watching a horror movie. I hate horror movies. I don’t like being scared or afraid, I don’t like the fake gore. To put it nicely, I’m not a fan of the horror genre.

Currently I am listening, not only to the television in my room, but the sounds of disgust coming out of Aiden. Judging by the sounds, I’m glad I’m not downstairs.

I did start watching the movie with Samantha and Aiden tonight, while I was applying for jobs. After the third jump off of the couch by Aiden I decided I had enough. I moved upstairs, yet the movie seems to be following me.

So what happens that I don’t like horror movies . . .I think it’s the fact that when I was about 5 my sister (who is almost 9 years older than me) had a sleep over where either she or one of her friend brought a Nightmare on Elm Street flick. Freddy scared the S*** out of me for many, many years. Many, many years that I am still in. In fact, last week I had a dream that I tried to make friends with Freddy in the hopes that he wouldn’t kill me in my sleep. Weird huh? Most of my dreams are . . .but that’s another post for another time.

Of the last four horror films I have watched, two I had to leave the theatre due to motion sickness (yes, that would be the motion of the cameras for The Blair Witch Project and Paranormal Activity. And I still can’t watch these movies on a t.v. screen. It still makes me sick.) and the other two I predicted (Urban Legends and I Know What You Did Last Summer).

The next movie night at this house I am hoping for a drama, a foreign film, maybe even a comedy (of the non-romantic type). No more horror films for me.