Tag Archives: Life

Tales from Funemployment: Conclusion

My brief yet stressful stint as an unemployed woman is over! Though I suppose I was never technically unemployed in the first place. This whole short series was a complete lie right from the start.

Anyway, I’m officially employed now so it doesn’t even matter anymore. I’m still at the same company, which I have mixed feelings about. On the one hand, I am a creature of habit and this place is familiar to me now. On the other hand, I now have a sour taste in my mouth due to this place and I don’t exactly feel as secure here as I once did.  i do really like my new job so far, though. I’m doing copy editing and I’m really excited to begin building my skills in this area. I think this will help make me better suited for more opportunities in the future and will hopefully help me on my way to my dream job.

The work is so completely different from everything I was doing before. It’s so relaxing! I don’t dread coming in to work anymore. I don’t have to worry about meetings and putting fires out and playing goalie with my inbox. I just get to come in, quietly do my work, and go home. It’s fabulous. It’s providing me with a much needed mental break.

I’m just happy I can get my life back on track. Though I think the track may look a bit different from here on out. Stay tuned. I think it’s going to be good.


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I’ve been meaning to share these pictures since before summer, but then I forgot (clearly). I took one photo a month in the same spot for a year, and here they are. I took them all using very advanced photographic technology (also know as an iPhone 4S).  No filters.



The commute from my apartment to work last year took me through mostly back roads and farm land, which is a-ok with me, because I got to see beautiful things like this every day. I just pulled my car over, rolled down the window, and took a snap.  These were all taken on my way to work, so between 7-7:30am for the majority of them.



I think October and April are my favorites.

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Tales From Funemployment: Chapter 2

I still don’t have a job, in case you were all wondering. The search continues.

In the meantime, I am still somewhat employed at my previous/current place of business as the kind people I have worked with for the past five years do their best to try to find a way for me to stay with the company. I am forever grateful for their help and support, but at the same time, living in this limbo land of not-quite-employed is really not good for my anxiety levels. I’m waiting to hear back on one last possible opportunity there, so I should know whether I am staying or going by the end of this week.

As time goes by, I have found myself beginning to form a sort of plan. Maybe not a plan, exactly, but I am starting to get a clearer idea of the kinds of work I’d like to be doing and the type of place I’d like to work.

I need to be doing something creative. I want to be doing something creative. I sit here and go on and on about how I want to write! I want to be a writer! But I don’t actually do anything about it.

For years I’ve been toying with the idea of studying graphic design. “That seems like so much fun,” I would think, “But I don’t know anything about it.”

For a brief but intense few weeks I was hell bent on going back to school to be a teacher. Further consideration of this plan has convinced me that no, I don’t. Those summers off always try to lure me in. But I’m pretty sure teachers should want to educate the future of America and create well rounded and bright young individuals. And I just want summer off to go to the beach and do all this writing I’m always going on about. So that seemed like a misguided idea.

So I made the decision to go back to school. For a certificate in graphic design. A slightly less expensive and commitment intense option. If it turns out I really love it and can see the benefit of having a second bachelors, then those classes can go towards attaining one. If all goes according to plan, I should be taking my first class in January.

In the meantime, I’m still struggling to find something to pay the bills and provide me with health insurance. Wish me luck? I sure do need it.

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moving is the worst

Yeah, I know. This isn’t an Earth-shattering revelation or anything. I don’t know anyone who has ever said “I LOVE moving! Weee!” But still. It’s really not a fun time. It’s not even a “meh” time. It really blows.

I’m moving out of my apartment this week and it feels like I will never be finished packing shit up. It probably doesn’t help that I’ve been packing while I consume all episodes of Orange is the New Black like an addict, but still. I keep finding another corner or cabinet with stuff in it. “Shit, I was using this cabinet above the stove? What’s even in here? Oh a bundt pan. Yes. Yes I may want to make a bundt someday. I’d better pack this.”

I have eight million boxes it feels like. My apartment has turned into some kind of really complex maze. And six million of those boxes are all labeled kitchen. I don’t know how that happened. My kitchen isn’t that big. This makes me fearful of the amount of stuff I could fit into a normal sized kitchen. The amount of stuff I could store and never use (bundt pans, so many bundt pans!).

And really, the best, most fun part of this move hasn’t even happened yet. The part where I get to somehow fit all of my accumulated Thing I Absolutely Need into my childhood bedroom. Should be exciting!

Wish me luck, would you?

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tales from funemployment

Now that I don’t technically have a job, you’d think I would have found myself with lots of free time on my hands. This has not been the case.

Guys. Being unemployed is hard work. At this point, I’m really only referring to is as “funemployment” to convince myself.

I still bring my laptop home every night and check my email obsessively. So I can forward my emails on to the person they gave my job to. (Side note: is this legal? Or ethical? To give my job to someone else without telling me why?)

Where am I bringing my laptop home from, you may be wondering. The office. That’s where. Because I still come in for at least an hour or two every day to chat with people and try to network and see if I can find myself another job at the company.

So far it’s not working.

When I am at home, I am frantically packing up my apartment to prepare to move back in with my mother on Friday. Which is not thrilling, to say the least. I know I am very fortunate to be able to do this, and the timing is working out perfectly, but my original plan for moving in there was to shovel money into savings while I house hunt. Now I am living there because I can’t afford to live on my own. My dreams of being a homeowner have been delayed indefinitely.

All in all, life is feeling pretty depressing at the moment. I’d just like to fast-forward to a time in the future when everything is sorted out and I am looking back on this period and saying “I’m so glad THAT’S over! Things really worked out for the better!”

I’ll let you know when I get there. I’m really hoping it’s soon.

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che sara, sara

Che sara, sara. What will be, will be.

I have this tattooed on the inside of my wrist because as a self proclaimed control freak, going with the flow can sometimes be hard for me.

Che sara, sara. What will be, will be. Everything will be okay.

I’ve been glancing at my wrist a lot this week. This has been one of craziest, scariest, most surreal weeks of my life.

On Monday, I found out the position I currently hold at my company has been eliminated, thus leaving me jobless.

There have been whispers and rumors and all kinds of speculation that something was going down at work, but I don’t think any of us thought it was going to be quite so drastic.There’s a lot of background and details surrounding this event, but I’m not going to get into them. Suffice it to say that as of August 30th I am no longer employed by my company and for the next week and a half all I am supposed to do is forward emails. Which I can do from my couch.

My initial reaction to this news was “Fuck me.” Which was immediately followed by “Funemployment!” So basically I have been on a complete roller coaster of emotion this week ranging from “my life is the worst” to “this is awesome”. As a weird coincidence, my BFF H also lost her job last week, so at the very least I am in good company.

I’m not sure how things will pan out. My brain is going in a thousand different directions as I try to figure out what my best option is.

On the plus side, I now have plenty of time to blog and I’m sure this experience will result in lots of blog fodder, so stay tuned.

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little house

So remember how last time I was saying how the day started off so crappy and then I found that house and I was so excited?

Well, I immediately jumped all over that hot little piece of property. Open house Saturday, offer in on Monday. It was perfect. Everything I could have hoped for in a house. Good neighborhood, partially finished basement, garage, adorable Cape style, decent yard. And priced ridiculously low. All it needed was some cosmetic updates.

We were one of NINETEEN offers. Nineteen! We put in a really good, solid offer. Well over the asking price.

And we came in second. Some cash offer, no inspection hood rats came in and got it. Clearly as an investment property because it was clear that for a small amount of money this place could be flipped to make a pretty profit.

I will say it now: flipping houses should not be allowed. You people are stealing houses out of an already very slim market for first time home-buyers like me. Then you are fixing them up and pricing them so we can’t afford them. And it is NOT FAIR. GO AWAY. You assholes.

If these cash offer asshats don’t come through with their earnest money in the next week or so, then my offer will be the winner and I get the house, but the odds of that happening are extremely slim. Please keep your fingers crossed for me anyway!

I had dreams of taking the time to fix it up. Having barbeques in the yard. Hearing the pitter patter of my future children’s feet running up and down the stairs. Ripping out those kitchen cabinets and putting in my dream kitchen.

And someone else just saw dollar signs. And it isn’t right.

This house was just too perfect. I know that this just wasn’t meant to be, and someday (hopefully soon) I will find another house that is at least as good, maybe even better, and this house will be forgotten.

But until then I am super disappointed.

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It’s cold and rainy.

I was running super late for work this morning.

I gained weight this week instead of lost it.

I forgot my banana.

The line at the Dunks drive thru was too long for me to get in. I didn’t get out and go inside because of my first complaint.

I found a really gross, albeit dead, bug on my perfume tray this morning.

Everyone else in my group at work took today off. I am ALONE.

It’s Friday. Friday’s are not supposed to be this complaint-ridden. I told it as much. “Get your shit together, Friday,” I said when I got to work.

Then I braved the cold and drizzle and walked to the coffee shop and got a very strong iced coffee that was $.50 more than Dunks which seemed reasonable.

When I got inside the office and checked my email I saw that I had a mystery credit in my Shoemint account. I don’t know where it came from, but I ordered the shoes I’ve had my eye on and only paid the $10 in shipping.

I checked real estate listings for my area to see if anything new had come up in my price range and LO AND BEHOLD we had a winner. A perfect little Cape in a decent neighborhood that needed some cosmetic updating. It’s  in my price range AND it’s having an open house tomorrow. AND it has a garage.

So thanks Friday, or Universe, or Powers That Be. I’m glad you heard my plea.



Conversations with N: Past & Present

[Background: We were reminiscing about our teenage selves and the ridiculous crap we used to do. I will not go into specifics here because it literally makes me cringe with embarrassment to remember what asses we were. Teenagers are the worst.]

K: My 27-year-old self would probably be so annoyed with the teenage me if I ever went back in time and met her.

N: My 27-year-old self is annoyed by your 27-year-old self all the time. Maybe by the time you hit 30 you’ll be cool.

K: [hits N on the arm and screeches that he’s a jerk]

N: But I am such a funny jerk!

Now that I’m typing this I’m wondering what my 17-year-old self would think of the 27-year-old me. I wonder if she’d be disappointed? She probably would be, since I know my teenage self thought 27 was so OLD and SURELY I’d have it all figured out by now. Life never does turn out quite the way we expect it to.

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Tuesdays are by far the worst day of the week. This is a long-standing belief that I have.

Mondays are bad, yes, but they are all consuming. All you can think of on Monday is just getting through the day.

Then you wake up on Tuesday and realize you have to do that four more times before the weekend. It’s the worst.

I am already looking forward to a whole lot of NOTHING this coming weekend, but here are a couple things from last weekend:


Puppy snuggles are the best.


Chocolate and vanilla swirl cones with chocolate sprinkles from DQ are the best.


Reading in bed lazily on a Sunday morning is the very best of all.

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