Change of Plans

The weather tomorrow is supposed to be perfect for the party I was planning on throwing.  It is only going to be 60 (chilly for us) and rainy and I thought that would set the perfect mood for my pity party.  I would do my volunteer stuff up at school, run my one errand, come home and put my flannel jammie bottoms back on and start wallowing in my misery.  I was looking forward to caterwauling on the couch, followed by a big plate of boo-hoo brownies and an emotional turn through all the bad choices and events in my life.  I would then finish with an exhausted nap.

is it still one brownie if it comes out in one piece?

The catalyst for all this planning was being rejected yet again for another job where the interview went exceedingly well, I was definitely qualified and really thought this was it.  It was not.  I found out about an hour before I had to go to work on Monday and this did not leave me time to throw myself on the bed and sob about what a loser I am.  Tuesday was busy with more work and kids and still not enough time to really beat myself up and encourage all the negativity swarming in my brain.  Sure, I was so grouchy at work that one of my co-workers slid a bag of peanut M&Ms over to me and said "Eat them.  Please."  I didn't want to spend the week yelling at the kids because they are annoying me for being happy, so I thought I should just section some time out to be miserable.  Any time I had a bad thought, I would just shelve it and say "we'll talk on Thursday".  I even announced to my family that I would be having my pity party on Thursday and no one was invited. 

5am came early this morning and while I was not excited to get up, I noticed I was not feeling as beaten down as yesterday.  Bill and I had our coffee and visited and I think I said three inappropriate words before 5:20am (new record) and we laughed.  The kids woke up happy and I didn't have to tell anyone to brush their teeth (also a new record).  The look of absolute horror on the 11 year old's face due to my car dancing made me belly laugh and the 9 year old wants a dance party when he gets home today.  I then went to kettlebell and was strong and it was a fun, new workout.  On the way home I started thinking about how I actually told Bill on Monday to stop telling me all the ways I was wonderful.  I thought about how my 11 year old hugs me every time she has walked by me the past three days or how my 15 year old facilitated all the dinner conversation last night because she knew I didn't feel like it.  This made me start to think that maybe things aren't so bad.  Maybe I am so lucky that instead of a pity party I should just stop and count my blessings.  (I am so glad no one actually said that to me because I may have punched them in the face).

I do wish employers would treat people that they don't hire better.  I know we are plentiful and I know you have a lot to do because you are employed, but we are still people.  We have feelings, we have aspirations for the jobs you dole out so solicitously.  Don't be condescending when we call, we are just trying to plan out our lives.  Send a letter or a quick email; I would gladly take a form letter that had one nice thing about me in it.  Even if you didn't like me, tell me that you liked my skirt, give me something so I can get back out there and do it again. 

So here I am about 24 hours out from my planned pity party and I think I am just going to cancel it. Besides, my errand tomorrow is threading and that woman works magic! I always feel 5 years younger and 10 pounds lighter when I leave there and this doesn't lend itself to pity.  I am, however, still changing back into my flannel jammies when I get home.