Demystic Blister’s Contigency Plan

14 06 2008

My tarot cards were right. I hate when my tarot cards are right about things I don’t want to hear. Three weeks ago, they strongly suggested in no uncertain terms that I would not be getting the dream job. The job with good steady pay to cover the costs of our new life. The job with reasonable hours that would see me home in time for supper and off on weekends so I wouldn’t feel like I’d abandoned my family completely. The job with the benefits that would give us the luxury of new eye glasses, regular dental care, and a psychotherapist. The job I wanted. The job I needed. The job I did not get. Sometimes I really hate when my tarot cards are right.

I’m still licking my wounds over the whole job search thing. The experience has pinched my ego, and not just because this particular job didn’t pan out. It’s more because I’ve applied for about a dozen different gigs – some were a stretch, some well below where I’m aiming to be, and some that seemed to fit almost just right – and I still only managed to score that one interview. I possess not one but two university degrees, neither of them in something useless like Philosophy. I’ve got a plethora of skills even without alluding to the saintly patience, steely nerves, and extraordinarily efficient multi-tasking abilities motherhood has given me. And considering I’ve been up to my eyeballs in diapers, toys and laundry for the past five years, I’ve still managed to get some decent work experience. But I still don’t have a job, or even a prospect on the horizon. So, I’m considering a completely crazy contingency plan to the whole finding a job thing: full-time freelance writing and editing.

I harbour no illusions about what I’d be getting myself into. In some ways, it is the exact opposite of what I thought I wanted in a job: no security, no guarantees, no health and dental benefit package. But in other ways, it is my dream job. It means being in control of how and when and why I work. It means being able to set my priorities as I see fit. And it means doing what I love to do the way I love to do it: wearing yoga pants and a tank top, cup of tea in hand, with raucous music cranked up, and my kids shrieking gleefully in the background. It’s so crazy, it just might work. And my tarot cards happen to agree.

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4 responses

14 06 2008
awalkabout

Wow….it’s hard to bite that bullet. I’m struggling with it myself. But I think I need to have verification in the form of a novel sale before I’m brave enough. We already don’t have insurance, so… *shrug* nothing new there. But it would be nice to have for sure.I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you!

16 06 2008
nanny

there is an old saying
God never closes a door without opening a window.
it may be true or not . I find lots of times you have to open your own window, hence the god in all of us. Not to worry or fret, knowing you , you’ll land where you want to land.
Love ,Nanny

16 06 2008
domesticblister

And for those metaphorical windows I can’t open, I’m not opposed to some smashy smashy action. A little bit of spite and some Break & Enter skills go a long way.

17 06 2008
tee

Bah – job hunting – i’m of the opinion it is the worst thing in the world for your ego. worse even than being dumped where at least you can pretend the other person is an idiot and clearly never appreciated how brilliant you truly are. but job hunting – it somehow just calls into question absolutely everything about yourself.
good luck! say hi to the east coast for me!!

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