A family asked me for an interview! The position wouldn’t be ideal—a Saturday and Sunday nanny position, which means I’d be working 7 days a week—but I think an interview is a good start.
I also have an interview at a dance studio tomorrow. I’d really like to get that job, but since I can’t work the next two weeks, I’m not so sure that’ll work out. Here’s something I’ve noticed about myself. I have an overdeveloped talent for working myself into a state. Give me a tiny mosquito bite and I will scratch it and irritate it and let it bother me until it looks like a red golf ball on the side of my arm. That’s a metaphor—mountains out of molehills stuff, you know. But what I mean is—I worry about everything. An inordinate amount of worrying. I can’t just let something be for a while.
And thus, I find myself frantically applying for jobs at which I won’t even be able to start for three weeks. Who is going to hire a part-time worker who can’t start for three weeks? Answer: nobody. So why am I even bothering at this point? I told my parents that I would start pounding the pavement at the end of July, after my two consecutive weekends with Mike and Emily were over, and I’d actually be able to start working again. But money is tight, so I jumped the gun. And now I’ll look like a doofus in both these interviews.
Why do I let myself get into these situations? Recently, I told Andrew that if I was independently wealthy, I would worry a lot less. He said, “No, you wouldn’t. You’d find stuff to worry about. ‘Am I paying the correct amount of taxes?’ ‘Do people hate me because I’m rich?’ ‘Am I giving enough money away to charity?’”
I realized he’s totally right. I could worry about anything. I’ll be the only angel in Heaven who can’t just relax (assuming, of course, that I make it up there. But, probably I’m destined for Hell, if only because Satan could so easily create a personalized eternity of misery for me—just tell me that because I died, something bad will happen to someone else, and I’ll be off, worrying myself miserable for the rest of time. It wouldn’t even be sporting, how easily Satan could torture me.)
But anyway, I worry too much. Normally, this would be the point where I make a vow to calm down. But I’m practically 23 now. I am who I am, and that’s who I’ll probably be for the rest of my life. I just have to resign myself that I’ll forever be a lazy, worrywart complainer who doesn’t exercise and judges strangers harshly. I can only hope that it’s part of my charm.
To quote the musical RENT (which I don’t even like): “Take me for what I am, who I was meant to be.”
I guess I’ll have to take me, baby, cause I don’t think I can leave me.
*NOTE* The title of this post is to act as a disclaimer because, despite my shortcomings, I think I'm pretty cool most of the time, and I didn't want anyone thinking I'm all down on myself, when really, I'm just very self-aware. : )
Dear book worm
ReplyDeleteJust a few things:
1) Thanks for the recent string of blog posts! After a while of no blogs, I feared you might have forgotten about your readers. However, you seem to be back into the groove of blogging and I have enjoyed reading you're posts (especially the one about the wedding!). Now if I could just get my wife to follow your example and do a little more blogging herself...
2) Lets assume that you will get into heaven ( I mean your brother in law works for the chuurch, so I'm sure he will have enough pull with the big guy upstairs to get you in). But fear not, you will not be the only angel busy worrying. Your sister will be right there with you, worrying her angel wings off about everything and anything. It's kind of scary how similar you guys are... Anyway, you will have an angel companion to worry with, and Andrew and I will be there to laugh at you guys (because laughing at other angels is definitely how I plan on spending my eternity in heaven!).
3) We are looking forward to coming up to visit and checking out the new place!
Sincerely,
Your Brother in Law
1) You are quite welcome! Of course I didn't forget about my readers...but what's the point of blogging when half of my readership is honeymooning in St. Lucia? I've been trying to get your wife to pick up the slack also. It is not working. But I guess we should give her a break...she does work three whole days a week.
ReplyDelete2) Thanks for your vote of confidence. Speaking of people being similar, you and your wife both commented with three points.
3) I'm stoked also! For you coming up here, but also my coming down there. I hope it's a good party. I could use a good party. Make it a good party.
4) I think this post was mostly an excuse to be able to say the words "wife" and "brother-in-law" in the present tense instead of the abstract future. Don't worry, I don't mind you using my blog as a forum for trying out the verbiage of your new lifestyle.
1) She blogged again! Although, with all the major events that have happened since the last time she blogged (like getting married and going on a honeymoon), she decided to blog about a minor run in with the police... WTF??? It is pretty funny though, check it out!
ReplyDelete2) Yeah, my wife and I are in sync like that. All our thoughts come in 3's.
3) It will be an epic party! Almost all of the guests have said they will be staying the night (don't worry, a bed has been reserved for you). But that means it will be a combination of a BBQ and a slumber party... with LOTS of alcohol! You will not soon forget this party... Or you might not remember a thing about it. Either way, I guarantee it will be worth your trip down.
4) Yeah, you caught me. Its just so weird saying I have a wife and in-laws I try to subtly slip it into conversation or posts so I can get used to it. Don't worry sister-in-law, next time I will be more discreet.
1) I know she blogged again! I literally laughed out loud when I read “po po.” Good thing I wasn’t at work.
ReplyDelete2) I guess 3s are better than 0s
3) Alcoholic slumber parties are my favorite!! Needless to say, my birthday parties were always the most popular in elementary school. That is a gross overstatement. I have a track record for throwing the lamest parties ever. Which I hope is not a family trait, because, as I told Emily this morning in an email, I am in the mood to get “D-R-U-N-K.” Just kidding (slightly).
4) Don’t worry, I really didn’t mind. Also don’t worry, after a couple years you’ll be trying to avoid saying those words. Joke.