Book of Job (omg, have I used this title before? hmm.)

Hey, kendra...: Shall.

I'm still looking for a job. It's been a YEAR, reader-san. It's been a year and the best I've gotten is a gig at a bookstore and a 'you're nearly over-qualified' note.

For the record...fuck THAT. I'm over-qualified? Then why are you wasting time writing this note instead of hiring me, huh? Unless said note is the beginning of a job offer, I don't really give a damn. If I had every job for which I am overqualified i wouldn't be cruising careerbuilder.com like a sad mid-forties-and-still-eating-pop-tarts vegas trick, would I?

*sigh*

My current job is deeply frustrating, because although it's books, it's also retail. On a street highly traffiked by tourists and rich mens' wives. With no hope of advancement, because the company doesn't promote from within. Why would they? Apparently nearly over-qualified people are a dime a freakin dozen.

I'm going bonkers.

It's not the job, even, or the searching for a career-starter. It's the fact that my life outside of work is going so well...then I worry about professional atrophy and money. I've been worried about underachieving since I was 3, so I'm used to that. I hate, however, worrying about money. Hate it so much.

Bah.