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It is never a good day.
So I ended up having a bit of a meltdown in New Jersey today. I wasn't in a great mood after getting up at seven to face an hour and a half commute and wanted to get something done when I was there, just get it over with, wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am. Not so much. Because I haven't done shit for the past two weeks, I didn't have anything to show, and she didn't have anything new to give me because of that, so she wanted to talk about working on job postings or something like that.
I mean, what the hell? How do I work on job postings? They're already there. I can't do anything to them. I can do job applications, sure, but postings? What?
Then she changed the subject and tried to talk about meet-up groups and local organizations for networking and mentorship, and okay, I get that, but seriously, mentorship, that's such a weasel word unless you're working as a blacksmith or some place where it means something. Not here, not now. Not for me where I am, where I'm looking at dozens of feeds and websites advertising work in a specialized field with more applicants than openings where I need to make my cover letters shine and sparkle or hone my interview skills because there are jobs out there I could start next Monday and hit the ground running and show them what two years in Pittsburgh can teach a librarian.
Not, you know...talking to someone who wants to figure out how to work on job postings.
So I had a bit of a meltdown where I let it all loose at her. She sent me to her supervisor. I let it loose at her, too, and ended up being entirely honest about the depression and SI and general state of affairs, which didn't do her any favors. But it felt good to be truthful about how little this whole mess with the New Jersey thing was helping.
So now I've got to call my therapist to get a referral for a psychiatric evaluation next week. And I don't want to, but I fucking agreed to it, so I'll go, I'll go. Shit.
Fuck. I'll watch The Good Wife and make tea and write those cover letters.
I mean, what the hell? How do I work on job postings? They're already there. I can't do anything to them. I can do job applications, sure, but postings? What?
Then she changed the subject and tried to talk about meet-up groups and local organizations for networking and mentorship, and okay, I get that, but seriously, mentorship, that's such a weasel word unless you're working as a blacksmith or some place where it means something. Not here, not now. Not for me where I am, where I'm looking at dozens of feeds and websites advertising work in a specialized field with more applicants than openings where I need to make my cover letters shine and sparkle or hone my interview skills because there are jobs out there I could start next Monday and hit the ground running and show them what two years in Pittsburgh can teach a librarian.
Not, you know...talking to someone who wants to figure out how to work on job postings.
So I had a bit of a meltdown where I let it all loose at her. She sent me to her supervisor. I let it loose at her, too, and ended up being entirely honest about the depression and SI and general state of affairs, which didn't do her any favors. But it felt good to be truthful about how little this whole mess with the New Jersey thing was helping.
So now I've got to call my therapist to get a referral for a psychiatric evaluation next week. And I don't want to, but I fucking agreed to it, so I'll go, I'll go. Shit.
Fuck. I'll watch The Good Wife and make tea and write those cover letters.