No, I still haven’t gotten on the scale in a while. Nor have I gotten measured or taken pictures. BUT, I can tell you that I have shoulders under those big, white pads that ran between my (fat) neck and arms. The extremities are coming into line a lot faster than the Great White Belly. However, I am assured that the GWB (not to be confused with the former President but I like it about as much) will fall off. I just have to keep faith.
And Lila, (yoga instructor), I love you to pieces but there's no way I can do this one...
Work/income has taken center stage over the past 2 weeks. Interviews that didn’t result in an offer. Companies that have me filling out 10 pages of forms and returning them (then complete silence) and companies trying to fill jobs for which I don’t have the skills (or the patience. Front line mortgage underwriting is not my bag. Being polite to a loan officer screaming at me because I’m not rubber stamping his loan applications is not my idea of a way to spend a work day. I don’t give a shit if I’m standing between him and a newer, bigger BMW. If that loan goes, I’M the one on the hook, not him) and companies telling me they’ve done a “targeted search” on either Career Builder or Monster and my skills are what they’re looking for in a new insurance/car/funeral (yes, funeral) salesperson. Other than an expired Florida life insurance license (required because I was working for an investment outfit that sold annuities), there is not a single thing in my resume that says, “Sales.” I’ve lost patience with the recruiters who send those emails and have sent back a few snotty “Please show me where it says I do sales” replies. I’ve gotten a couple of apologies. There are also the scams, generally work from home or “processing receipts”, whatever that is.
Tomorrow, I get in my car (assuring him he’s a good boy) and drive about 70 miles for a job interview. No, I’m not kidding. If I get the job, it’s over 50 miles from where I’m sitting right now. Still not kidding. And once again, I find myself at that crossroads: relocate away from the San Fernando Valley, where I have my “creative” friends (comics, actors, musicians) down to Orange County because that’s where the paying work is (and the proposed pay is good) or do I try to keep hanging hoping for something local and better? (The local option went out the window with the interview that didn’t pan out. I’m still kind of fried over that; the description was EXACTLY what I used to do for a previous employer, but the reason I got was “your skill set doesn’t match up to what we need.” WTF? )
One option completely out is Bering Sea crab fisherman. I don’t care how sexy Sig Hansen is; no way I’d do that job.
Well, I have a $12,000,000 Newport Beach estate on my vision board, so I did put it out to the Universe that I want to live in Orange County…(John Wayne liked it down there. He commuted to Hollywood).
Luckily for me, there’s Dog News (www.dognewsteam.com) and I have been writing sketches and “blogs” for them without having to be in the same room. While the mortgage work puts food on the table (and I confess to snarfing down some peanut M&Ms. Stress food), the comedy feeds my soul. I can be professional and well-behaved “on the job” as long as I have an outlet. Dog News is an outlet. So is the gym and luckily for me, there are branches of my gym down in the OC. Unfortunately, the yoga and Pilates teachers that I love so much aren’t down there, but I may find folks down there to love. And I have actual friends down there as well, both mortgage and creative.
We’ll see what happens.
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