bluesleepy. Get yours at flagrantdisregard.com/flickr
2001-06-12

Head in the sand
I feel so guilty for taking all this time off and not finding a job. Kurt says not to worry, that we can manage on his income for a few months and life is good. He tells me to save my graduation money, go to see Sandy for a week or two, hang out at the pool with Rose and Royall. DON'T WORRY, he says. And yet I do. I keep thinking I should be scouring the help wanted ads, sending my resume off to thousands of companies, interviewing with them and blowing their minds on how perfect I am for their company, and bringing home a $40,000+/year salary. My mind won't let me enjoy the little things... I don't sleep anymore because I wake up and remember the $200 credit card bill and wonder what I'm going to use to pay for it. I wake up and remember I don't have a job, that I need to get out there and look. And Kurt tells me not to worry, that it's ok if I have to work at Walmart or Target just to make some money to contribute to the household. That it's ok to take the summer off, but that I need to find a job by September. I feel myself getting stressed out again, the way I was during my last fall semester in school. And in the back of my mind I can hear my father say, "I wasted $50,000 on your college education so that you can just sit around and do nothing??!" Or worse, so that I can work at Walmart for less than what I was making at Microcenter last summer.

Maybe it's because I'm afraid of failure. I know retail, I know what to expect of retail. But that's not good enough for someone who went to a college that turned down Ivy League status. For someone with a degree in computer science. I should have a ton of offers, hav e a job where I'm making twice as much money as Kurt, wearing business suits every day and carry a tres trendy attache case. But few people understand that I don't want that kind of life. The problem is I don't know what I want.

I have very little pushing me into one particular direction -- I was never that little girl who insistently told her parents she wanted to be a doctor, worked a full-time job while getting straight A's in medical school, graduated at the top of her class, and is now the top neurologist in the country. I wanted to be a teacher, I wanted to be a librarian, I wanted to be an astronaut (which really fell by the wayside when I realized I'd always be too heavy for it).

I wish I could just relax and understand that one day I'll find my niche. But I wander around this city and see all these people working and making a paycheck, and I wonder how all those people got their jobs. And what's wrong with me that I am too shy to look for one, to put myself out on a limb, why I'm so damned afraid of failure.

I would much rather hide my head in the sand.

But on a cheerier note, my beloved was promoted to Petty Officer First Class last week. I am so intensely proud of him -- most people in his rate (what he does in the Navy) make it to First Class after nine years in the Navy, and he's only got eight years in.

Also, his chief came up to us after his frocking ceremony yesterday, and as he chatted with us, he looked at me and said, indicating Kurt, "Man, all this guy ever talks about is college!! College this and college that, all the time!!" I am proud of Kurt because he's got his head on straight, he knows what he wants (a college education), and he's doing all he can in his power to get to his goal. He doesn't care how long it takes, how old he is when he graduates, but he's insistent on getting that degree. And I will be right there behind him, as his own personal cheering squad, doing everything I can to help him with this goal.




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