While I haven't been productive on the job-searching front, I spent some great quality time with my family and did some major soul-searching. I'm beginning to realize that the job search is really only part of my journey.
Every single job I've had as a post-undergrad adult has been chosen out of financial necessity. Each time I accepted a job, I was accepting a source of livelihood rather than a true calling. So, here I am at 35 and I don't even know what my true calling is. And, I've been so beaten down by Darth Sidious and his crafty minions every day, that I don't know what my true talents are anymore.
It's really hard to be a grown-up and not know what you want to be when you grow up. The sensation of being adrift is almost paralyzing.
Right now, my instinct is pure survival. I would probably sever a pinky toe (my own, of course) if it meant I could disembark the Death Star. But, the ensuing months of financial hardship would be just as difficult as the rib-shattering stress of my job. So, we can strike that from the list of viable options.
The other option is to keep searching and make my days as bearable as possible. As much as my inner Chuck Norris tells me that medication is for weenies, I may have to go that route. The anxiety provoked by the mere thought of my daily grind is pretty unbearable. I wake to the thought of how ridiculous the coming day is going to be and then Babar The Elephant takes a siesta on my chest.
So, the plan for this week is to keep the job search running come hell or high water, call my Doc and ask for some pharmaceutical happiness and keep on plugging.
By the way, I think everyone should have an inner Chuck Norris. It makes your life feel more interesting. And more bulletproof.
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