So I have 43 (ha! appropriate) days to secure a FT job and a place to live, move all of my assorted shit (not much but still arduous unless it’s right down the road), start said new job, change mailing address, get a new license and settle somewhere. Or I could just move back up north; without scrambling like a cracked out hamster on a broken, rusted wheel. I lose a pension if I leave, but without a new job (in the same gov’t retirement system) to replace my cush part time gig, I cannot afford the astronomical rent here. Should have just started banging a local realtor or property manager but hindsight is 20/20 (sarcasm, mostly). Since when am I a person who gives a fuck about a pension? I’m not, but people keep telling me I need to. That it’s the smart thing to do. What adults are supposed to worry about. I’m hella annoyed at everyone who ever told me life gets easier. They lied.
I interviewed today with an asshole. One of those guys who needs to make sure everyone around him is aware that he’s in charge of things. The kind of dude who talks down to anyone near and enjoys making people (women especially, squirm). Reminds me of my biodad, a terminally insecure man child who’s mad at the world for his own ineffectual existence. I cannot imagine reporting to someone like that. My mouth would get the best of me sooner rather than later. I wondered if I was overreacting, so I asked my local friend what she knew about him. Her words: he’s a worthless pile of human debris that has all the charm of a cockroach and a list of complaints against him a mile long. Yeah. So that convenient local job option is out. The ones that remain: a cakewalk remote position with the county that would afford me to stay beachside. Second interview next week. My dream job in MD I’ve interviewed for that’s still considering applicants. That’s it. And until (if) either comes through, I’m homeless as of May 1. All those cheap places my friends could hook up turned out to=0 reality.
Trying to find a place that allows a “40lb” (60lb but she can look small) dog is beyond difficult. But aside from that, I can’t get a place until, and if, that job comes through. Because my current pay grade will not cover that kind of rent $$$. So I can’t even commit to something (not like there’s much of anything out there right now anyway) until someone other than me makes a decision about my future employment. I’m 100% at the mercy of something I have no control over. And anyone who knows me understands that that, is my literal definition of the deepest pit of hell. So, yeah; that’s my life at the moment; if it wasn’t mine I would laugh.