I have a confession.
Despite my positivity...or possibly lack thereof...I spent my day never making it out my pajamas.
Thankfully, today is my day off.
Tomorrow, I return to my regular job. I have been thinking that I have a real love-hate relationship with job hunting. There is a rush of excitement in filling out the application with hopes that I might get a response, an interview, or even make a change in my career. I have always had the spirit of an adventurer, ever since I was a small child. My parents loved to move. My dad had a wild spirit too. We moved 14 times before I left for college. At just 17 years old, I moved to a different state to attend college away from home. I wasn't even old enough to sign my own documents, but I had a dorm and a car, and a bank account. I didn't care that the world didn't classify me as "adult" quite yet.
I ran into a couple of problems for the first two months of college before I turned 18. There were some papers to be signed the first week and I had to mail them home and wait for them to return. That ruined my buzz of being "adult" and "on my own."
If you look at my resume, I have a few too many jobs. I really should slow down in life and just learn to smell the roses (where I'm already at, of course).
Fortunately, or unfortunately, I married a man with the same spirit of adventure. We have three little adventurous children who racked up enough frequent flyer miles by age five to travel across the world on a free ticket. Yep, that's us.
Now, we ARE going to Hawaii. One way or another. I have my heart, mind and pure obsession set on going. We ARE going. Somehow, some way...someday.
Of this, I am sure.
Oh yeah, remember in previous posts how I said I'm a professional counselor. I was once told by my supervisor that all counselors have to be "just a little bit crazy" to do what we do. Well, I work inpatient psychiatry, so I'm a LOT of crazy. I once had a guy chase me down the hall with the drawer from his bedroom nightstand, telling me "RUN!" and I just promptly obeyed. It didn't scare me. That's the moment I knew I was in the right profession, and the right place. At least...the right profession and the right KIND of place, just in the WRONG place...wrong state...or maybe just wrong state of mind...who knows at this point.
Ok, now I'm really rambling.
So, back to me in my pajamas. What did I do today--with my precious time off work? I looked for work on a far away island. All day.
I updated my already spotless resume that my resume builder program www.myperfectresume.com calls a "Superstar" resume. Yep, that's me. Superstar...looking for a job...in Hawaii.
Well, I think I may have found one. Again. This time, it's even closer to be in my actual wheelhouse of experience.
Mental Health Professional III. That's me. A pro-fess-ion-al...at mental health.
I must have spent a good hour and a half applying for that *stupid* job.
Maybe there's a hint of resentment building up in me. Why does this dream have to take so long? Why does it have to be so hard to find a stinking' job in Hawaii? Maybe because EVERYBODY wants to go there.
Stop it. It's my turn.
It's like when you've been sitting a red light, for what seems like FOREVER, and nobody will let you in.
Despite my positivity...or possibly lack thereof...I spent my day never making it out my pajamas.
Thankfully, today is my day off.
Tomorrow, I return to my regular job. I have been thinking that I have a real love-hate relationship with job hunting. There is a rush of excitement in filling out the application with hopes that I might get a response, an interview, or even make a change in my career. I have always had the spirit of an adventurer, ever since I was a small child. My parents loved to move. My dad had a wild spirit too. We moved 14 times before I left for college. At just 17 years old, I moved to a different state to attend college away from home. I wasn't even old enough to sign my own documents, but I had a dorm and a car, and a bank account. I didn't care that the world didn't classify me as "adult" quite yet.
I ran into a couple of problems for the first two months of college before I turned 18. There were some papers to be signed the first week and I had to mail them home and wait for them to return. That ruined my buzz of being "adult" and "on my own."
If you look at my resume, I have a few too many jobs. I really should slow down in life and just learn to smell the roses (where I'm already at, of course).
Fortunately, or unfortunately, I married a man with the same spirit of adventure. We have three little adventurous children who racked up enough frequent flyer miles by age five to travel across the world on a free ticket. Yep, that's us.
Now, we ARE going to Hawaii. One way or another. I have my heart, mind and pure obsession set on going. We ARE going. Somehow, some way...someday.
Of this, I am sure.
Oh yeah, remember in previous posts how I said I'm a professional counselor. I was once told by my supervisor that all counselors have to be "just a little bit crazy" to do what we do. Well, I work inpatient psychiatry, so I'm a LOT of crazy. I once had a guy chase me down the hall with the drawer from his bedroom nightstand, telling me "RUN!" and I just promptly obeyed. It didn't scare me. That's the moment I knew I was in the right profession, and the right place. At least...the right profession and the right KIND of place, just in the WRONG place...wrong state...or maybe just wrong state of mind...who knows at this point.
Ok, now I'm really rambling.
So, back to me in my pajamas. What did I do today--with my precious time off work? I looked for work on a far away island. All day.
I updated my already spotless resume that my resume builder program www.myperfectresume.com calls a "Superstar" resume. Yep, that's me. Superstar...looking for a job...in Hawaii.
Well, I think I may have found one. Again. This time, it's even closer to be in my actual wheelhouse of experience.
Mental Health Professional III. That's me. A pro-fess-ion-al...at mental health.
I must have spent a good hour and a half applying for that *stupid* job.
Maybe there's a hint of resentment building up in me. Why does this dream have to take so long? Why does it have to be so hard to find a stinking' job in Hawaii? Maybe because EVERYBODY wants to go there.
Stop it. It's my turn.
It's like when you've been sitting a red light, for what seems like FOREVER, and nobody will let you in.
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