Of Mice and Men


Well, the second full week of January 2015 is a wrap and it was pretty much a second verse, same as the first sort of deal, except there are mice (well, a mouse) and a lot of WTFness from men. Not dates or the exes… not sure who The One for me will be, but pretty sure married men, a cheating Mormon and a Walking Mid-life Crisis ain’t it. And I really am not interested in seeing what any of them are up to. Not today anyway.

Before I break down the week that was, I have to announce that it’s official: I am finally taking action with the relocation to NC beyond searching homes for rent in what will hopefully be my price range. I have started applying to jobs in both Raleigh and Greensboro. Five to be exact; three have already rejected me (positions were already filled and website not updated), but jobs are like men: you have to kiss a lot of frogs before you find a prince, so I am undeterred.  Not all that keen on going to Greensboro as it is the Most Boring City in America and that is where I officially flushed my life down the toilet (yeah, we got history and not a good one at that), but I have family there and limiting myself to JUST Raleigh at this juncture may be a bit hindering.

Okay, on to the post but first, a few disclaimers. Do not believe anyone else’s version of the mouse story. My version is the only real and true version. Trust me. Regarding the updates regarding the men, I hope I am not coming off as a complainer….really, not complaining but just wanting to share the ridiculosity that they bring to my world. It could be me being a princess but doubtful. And Weekend Phone Friend says I unnecessarily man-bash when I get some of the same WTFness from women (in the professional realm) so maybe you Lovebugs can help me figure out if it is a man thing, a recruiter thing or if in addition to weirdoes, I also attract the deaf and dumb. And now…the week that was.

The Mouse: Not going to say it was huge, with fangs dripping venom or that it walked on its hind legs. It wasn’t and it didn’t. It was scrawny, cock-eyed and scared to death of my screams. BUT, it drove me crazy in less than a minute. Hell, in less than 30 seconds. Honeybee and Cuz deserve 5 Guys or something because I was up ALLLLL night long and made them keep me company. I screamed bloody murder on a constant basis, I cut on every light in the apartment, turned the volume on the TV all the way up, I cut off the heat and poured at least a gallon of bleach EVERYWHERE. I succeeded in running the mouse away and myself crazy with the self-inflicted torture…who can sleep when they are cold, lights are on everywhere, the TV is at a deafening level and the bleach fumes have you choking and loopy? And I am STILL thinking that mouse is here (he isn’t)…I no longer put packaged food on my kitchen counters: I hang my chips and cake doughnuts from the closet door in a bag. I check cabinets, drawers, packaged food already in said cabinets, cereal boxes and even the refrigerator for signs of droppings or of being nibbled/chewed on. I do not enter my kitchen after 11pm (like mice can tell time). Everyone I know tells me I am a wuss and being utterly ridiculous and I know I am, but it was VERMIN in my kitchen…at least I know I can go crazy over more than just men.

The Recruiter: Imagine you are unemployed and have your resume posted on practically every online job board; you even have email alerts set up for everything you have ever done in your professional life (except retail and fast food), and one morning you get an alert for an Editorial Assistant and you apply to the job. The next day, you get a call from the recruiter representing the client and he asks you to interview! You get dressed and even take a cab downtown so as not to get caught up in Metro and its messiness…and then you wonder if that was a good idea as the driver has no idea how to use the turn signals that come with the car. He is using hand signals (like a bicyclist would) and narrowly avoiding accidents. But you arrive safely and on time at the interview and your recruiter has pimples on his face, smells like Clearisil and toothpaste and obviously dressed himself in his father’s suit. He makes you wait, then plops you in front of the propaganda film that speaks to you as if you have never worked a day in your life and when it’s over, he makes you wait some more. THEN, he is ready to interview….except the Editorial Assistant job is non-existent. He has no answers to your questions as to why he invited you to interview for a job that is not even available, but he asks what are you looking for? So you tell him what you want…and he comes at you with an assignment that is basically telemarketing and lying and low paying. But he phrases it as “survey research” making calls to folks who WANT to talk to you and that they dispatch folks to this assignment EVERY week! Add high turnover to the list of things that this assignment has going for it. Oh, and said recruiter checks your references while you are there and uses you as an enticing tool to get your former company to sign on with their agency for their staffing needs. And that was my Thursday.

 Friday Night Hangout: I would like to think when I am not emotionally insane or erupting with pent up resentments and frustrations, I am an effective communicator. I would like to think that my suggestions are valid ones, but either I am mistaken or men are really just deaf and dumb.  Hangout Buddy is back and we decided to meet up and catch up while doing what we do best…dinner and a movie. He was blown away by my weight loss but it kinda irked me…seriously, if I am so everything now, how could I have been so everything before?? But, I shrugged it off because that’s how it is: we are all so amazing and so many positive things but somehow we are even more so with less weight. He ate the lion’s share of food at dinner which was fine with me (remember that…) and he drank quite a few beers also. I knew he liked a drink with his meals but 4 beers? Not sure if I am a prude or if he is excessive as dinner lasted at most 75 minutes. We had tickets I had the foresight to purchase beforehand for the 8pm showing of American Sniper (his suggestion as I am not a fan of either war movies or Bradley Cooper) and I suggested we start heading to the theater. Opening night of a film and a cold night in DC meant everyone and their brother would be at the movies. He shot it down….he doesn’t like getting to the movie early and how crowded could it be? Lovebugs, we were relegated to the very front row of the theater (my neck still hurts)….and got the last two seats at that. Then I said I wanted popcorn and stood up to go get it, but he insisted he would be the one to get it. I tell him I want a medium bag with extra butter, little salt and a water. He returns after standing in line for 20 minutes with a small bag of popcorn complete with no butter, extra salt and m&m’s sprinkled in. And no drink. What the FUCK is THAT? Certainly not what I asked for and he actually said: “more for me” and proceeded to eat it all. After scarfing down practically everything at dinner.  That effectively ruined the movie experience for me. Oh, and not done there….on the way home, he asks the best way back to my house…and ignored both my suggestions, stating he was going HIS way…because he is the man. His way took almost an hour and past where his ex USED to live….I am all for stalking and staking out, but you gotta keep it in the present tense. Ask my Panel…I am up to date on all the exes and no drive-bys necessary. The strange thing here is, he wants us to go out again this weekend because he apparently saw absolutely nothing wrong with this outing.

And that is the week that was…so what do you think? Am I a chronic complainer and man-basher? Am I not communicating clearly or maybe speaking a foreign language? Or is the stupidity surrounding me just off the charts? Well, it’s late (or early…4:20am) as I finish this post up, so going to hit the sheets for a few before resuming the job search and maybe tossing some laundry in the washer. As always….thanks for stopping past and reading and as usual….enjoy your day!

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