Caterwauling

That moment when you should probably have congratulated someone who delivered news that they’re having a kid, but the “Sucks to lose your last shred of freedom” that came to your mind drowned out your manners completely.

And while I really don’t want kids at this juncture, the silent scream of, “When will it be MY turn to have something I want?” was almost too palpable to bear.

I’ve been interviewing candidates and it’s been killing me.

I didn’t advertise for people in my field; in fact, it’s a plus that they haven’t had their soul forcibly ripped from their bodies.

But the editing tests I send, while people generally do well, scare the fuck out of them and they don’t let me get to the offer stage because they can’t imagine doing this shit every day of their lives.

I notice the men I interview are “meh.” But they think they are God’s gift.

Like, I dance circles around these fools in ability, aptitude and dedication. And they all want more money than I take home and they make it clear they don’t want to do the bitch work and they SURE don’t want to do it after 5 p.m.

“PRETTY CLOSE TO RESISTIBLE, LOVER MAN.” How many times do I have to quote Whitney Houston’s “Savannah” character in “Waiting to Exhale”?

I wonder if my boss talks to these people with me and realizes how AWESOME I am. Or whether I will just never be a part of the swinging dicks club outside of which I have stood my whole career.

I imagine Jill Abramson kicked ass at the New York Times. And fuck yeah she deserved equal pay. She probably deserved MORE PAY. I bet she worked 10 times harder and appreciated the opportunity a thousand times more.

I would know.

I wasted time offering a job to the worst candidate in the world and lost time finding the best.

And today I lost the best candidate to another job.

Seriously, this girl made me feel like I was discovering myself in the resume pile. I wondered if my previous employers felt so excited to find someone so awesome — someone to whom they couldn’t WAIT to make an offer.

I wanted to hire her after our first telephone conversation. And again after we met in person Thursday.

I wanted to bring her in for the final, formal interview tomorrow. But alas, she accepted another job.

Reminds me of when I was choosing between going to Vermont and taking the job I have now. Vermont didn’t move quickly enough.

I had bills to pay. I’d been freelancing for a variety of people with a variety of ideas about what “paying on time” and “paying in full” meant.

I imagine this is the same situation, although she was too gracious to say it and frankly so I was I, when I was in the same situation.

I almost admire the asshole I didn’t hire, bragging about some phantom job offer that paid like double what I wanted to offer him. (I could have paid more; I just didn’t think his scruffy punk ass was worth it.)

And he did write me recently to ask where it all went wrong that I retratcted the offer. Um, I thought you had a better offer you wanted instead?

Was I the one who got away for him … and is this girl the one who got away for me?

And here I thought I’d finally get a fucking day off now that I’d identified someone brilliant, funny, smart and capable.

Fuck. Me.

My friend at work lost her mom over the weekend.

The situation is all too familiar to when we lost my grandmother.

Gram had a stroke, the medics came, the medics LEFT and then had to be called back, and then she couldn’t walk or talk right the rest of her life.

My friend’s mom had a stroke, the medics came, the medics LEFT and had to be called back, and then she was paralyzed.

Both still sharp as tacks though. They knew what happened and they were powerless to it.

My mom took care of my grandmother for seven years before we took her to the hospital and they killed her that day.

And Kevorkian got jailed for that shit, killing people who wanted to die.

Fuck, go to McKeesport Hospital (and the VA Hospital in Oakland and Aspinwall and Hazelwood. Fucking torture chambers) and they will kill you even though you didn’t want to be kilt.

Anyway, I’m a wreck today.

I burst straight into tears when I heard about my friend’s mom. Her situation is identical to my grandmother’s — only it was three months long, not seven years.

Also, and we are all in the same boat of having a mom who is our best friend who is living in our houses for us to care for them.

I have nothing profound to say about it, here or to my friend. My friend told me to hug my mom today and every day.

You just never know when God is going to want them back. And even when you think you’re ready to let them go, you find yourself 15 years later realizing you weren’t then and you still aren’t now.

“When I don’t even know who I am
What’s it gonna take to make me worthy
What’s it gonna take to make me strong
I don’t have much to give, I’ve only just begun to live.”

— Sarah McLachlan, “What’s It Gonna Take”

This turning-40 shit is for the birds.

I think my mom is dying. She says she is, anyway. I don’t doubt her.

I will miss the shit out of her and my heart will break a thousand ways to Sunday.

Sometimes I fluctuate between despair and relief, in a way. She wouldn’t be in pain anymore. The next phase of my life would begin without constant worry and fear.

But I’d be without my best friend. Like, for the rest of my life.

She said something interesting yesterday, about how certain people/situations are holding me back. That I was put on this earth to shine and yet I always find myself stuck in others’ shadows. Or doing what they want and doing it well but not doing what I could be brilliant at.

I struggle between being OK with my life and wanting so much more. Things aren’t bad. Not a dream and NOT why I was put on this earth. But, you know. Maybe I should shut up and keep my head down.

But there’s a part of me that will always be restless. Always be wondering. Always be doing my damndest not to crane my neck looking for the pivotal moment that will Change Everything.

I’m feeling like I need to leave this county. Like, go further south. I don’t mean move; I mean uproot. I spend every weekend Elsewhere.

I’ve been trying to plan a big 40th birthday event. First I was going to go to New York. Then I didn’t plan it because I was going to Vegas. Then Vegas fell through and I decided on the Keys. Then the Keys were too expensive (prices are slashed 70% if I wait till June) so I decided OK, I’ll turn 40 quietly in my own neighborhood.

Yuck. And so, I will spend yet another weekend in Fort Lauderdale because that’s where I love to be.

What I really want is to go see Chip Esten perform at the Opry. Or go grab my old friend in Pittsburgh and spend a day at Kennywood. Or jet off to N’Orleans and eat powdered beignets as big as my head. Or take my friend up on her standing invitation to run away to Dublin and drink Guinness till my liver falls out. Or go to Boston for a weekend of professional development. Or go ride the new ferris wheel at the National Harbor. Or eat blue crabs and pit beef in Baltimore.

Alas, can’t leave mom. And don’t want to right now, truth be told. But once she’s gone — and let me be clear, I want her around for as long as I can have her — I am taking off. Where, I don’t know. But you can be sure that if you’re looking for me, you can find me at any one of the above destinations, celebrating my 40th no matter how old I really happen to be …

There’s a weird element of friction in the air and it’s getting the best of me right now.

One person distrusts another. And cries wolf while I’m working to investigate their claims. Which, may have some merit but I have yet to find evidence of it.

Look, I try to resolve problems (or die trying) before I go public with some of them. And this is an example of something that’s not a crisis, becoming one.

In other news, a beloved colleague texted me from the city I was supposed to be in today to say hello and that she picked up my badge … at the event that ONLY I was excited about attending.

And yet I’m the only one at home. I’m not quite sure what emotion to have about that.

Someone had told me they’d make the arrangements but then when I realized last week that things weren’t paid for, it took a few days to get spending approval and I lost the only halfway decent trip price.

Even though this is generally no big deal in the grand scheme of things, it broke my heart that I wanted something SO MUCH and it all but slipped away. So I let it go.

I guess I’m glad I stayed behind because I caught a boo-boo during today’s money-making event that was easy to correct, but only someone who was staring at the screen intently would have seen it.

I also guess that I hate when people are trying to make me out to look dumb (it’s the result even if it isn’t the intent) when I am fighting with all my might to make sure this crazy adventure actually works … for all of us.

Happiness is one less meeting. You should have seen the dance I just did when I silenced today’s meeting reminder for the 8:30 a.m. adventure.

I nave never been so excited to work in all my life.

If I work say 72 hours a week (let’s say), and I am in meetings 11 hours a week (let’s say), join me in my sad realization that I ATTEND MEETINGS FOR FREE.

Read: My personal time is sacrificed to listen to people talk.

Even if it’s an easy week and I work 60 hours, that’s still only 48 hours of achievement (more or less).

Now I’m depressed. Glad I did that happy dance first!

That moment when you call your mom at 6:30 p.m. to say you’re probably never going to make it home … and certainly not in time to eat the dinner she so lovingly prepared for you … and her voice is so weak as she says “Come home, little girl” and you wonder if it’s the last time you’ll ever have the chance to hear her voice … or whether you’ll be lucky enough to have this same conversation tomorrow.

I find that I develop a little crush about every three months. And at about two or three days in, it’s done.

The formula is the same every single time. I am awesome. I meet someone. They take a very obvious shine to me. I entertain this shine and realize, hey, I attract really cool people. Maybe if this person is both cute and intelligent, I should get to know them.

Then somewhere between the “collect underpants” and “profit” stages, it all falls apart.

And just as quarterly earnings reporting season is wrapping up, right on cue, my heart found itself soaring … and going splat on the pavement.

It’s not a big deal, really. I only get invested for 48 hours. I appreciate that the universe shows me that I do have an ability to connect with unexpected people in unexpected places.

So here’s what does seem to last in my world …

Even though I got out and had fun the past few days, overall I didn’t have a good weekend. Mom has gotten like 10 times sicker over the past two days.

It’s amazing, really, how one person can withstand so much pain. And then keep getting worse. After being nothing but generous and kind her whole life.

She took a mini-stroke in Wal-Mart yesterday. This on top of some other weird new symptoms. But with no health coverage, we came home. Like the other times this has happened. Except for that one time I checked her into the ER and they couldn’t do anything for her.

Up to that point yesterday, my soul had detached from my body and was doing twirls and pirouettes with the possibility that, maybe finally, the time had come again … to meet someone cool, to hang out … to work less and have a life and maybe fall back in love with what it is that I do.

And to, gee I don’t know, be happy on some level.

You know. For a change.

Alas, I don’t want to talk about it anymore. But in the space of 15 minutes, I went from dreaming to getting smacked over the head with the wet dildo of reality.

Where does happiness fit in, I ask you? When my best falls short of what everyone else needs and wants from me?

I don’t want to say I will never have anything special. But it’s getting harder and harder to believe anything good is going to happen while I’m still young enough to enjoy it.

I had a very “Sovereign” week last week. A few of you will understand that this translates to “stabby.”

In any event, I always thought that if you worked around the clock and produced a lot, you would be immune from criticism. Yet, at every job I have ever held, this has never actually been true.

The only glimmer of hope in the week, as I was hearing about it for 45 solid minutes that I haven’t produced any viable candidates for my open position, was when my boss said, “You need to hire someone so you can do what you want to do.”

I perked up.

What I want to do?

Really?

That’s possible?

I mean it, I have been in a funk where I’ve been terrified of hiring my replacement (that’s how I view it, even though I am assured that’s not the case) yet it’s not a role I really want anymore anyway.

I outgrew this role 10 years ago. But in this field, it’s what I “do” and I can’t ever seem to break out of it.

You mean I don’t have to do “this” anymore once I hand it off to someone? *squee*

God, I don’t even know what I want to do. This field has made me hate writing, hate editing, hate managing people and basically just hate being alive, for the most part.

A close colleague was saying how she has plans at 7 p.m. Tuesday in a town that’s a good hour’s drive from the office. And I was so bitterly jealous. Because I probably won’t wrap up my work till 8 p.m. and I’ll still have things left undone.

I went to meditation class yesterday and just cried the whole time. I asked my higher self for peace. And it said, “Is that all?” And gave it to me.

As I released the rage of a thousand little disappointments, my higher self said, “It’s not a matter of getting your life back but, rather, getting your nights back.”

See, here’s the thing. I am at the point where I’ve been in my last nine jobs, where I’m fighting to hold on to something frankly I no longer want.

But whereas I would generally be reading the want ads, right now there’s that possibility that I could find whatever it is I want, right here, instead of taking the same unfulfilling role in another unfulfilling company.

Hmm.

I don’t know whether to be terrified or relieved. But I am motivated.

I don’t know exactly what I want, but I’m open to the possibilities. Wouldn’t it be nice to try everything and see what makes me happy AND makes money for the company? AMAZING.