30 | May | 2013 | thebitterbabe

May 30, 2013

unfriending

Just before I left Los Angeles I “unfriended” the woman on Facebook who had treated me so poorly after getting engaged (and her behavior had been quite shaky before that, frankly). I wanted to remove all ability to keep up with her and her life.

That same sentiment is echoed here:

http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/australia-culture-blog/2013/may/29/bff-female-friendships-end

I haven’t spoken to my ex-best friend in almost five years. Late last year, after another night of chasing her around in my dreams, I unfriended her on facebook. Having that link there had become a reminder of the failure between us, and of how painful the situation had become. And although part of me will always wonder where she is and how she is going, removing that link has helped me move on. My dreams have become my own once more.

May 30, 2013

capitulation

I turned in the job application for the safety jobs today. Feeling a bit glum. I could always turn down the interview, I suppose. In the meantime I will hit up an employment agency and try to gauge my prospects. I’m not so sure that applying to ads is going to get me anywhere. I wish I had a little more time to fish, but I’m afraid to pass up an opportunity.

Most of my friends have told me to hold out and think I’m a great candidate with an impressive resume. Maybe, but that doesn’t matter if nobody’s buying. It reminds me of dating. You can have a great profile on a dating site, but so what? It doesn’t necessarily mean anyone’s interested.

I’m feeling a bit defeated but am thinking I’ll rebound in a few days. I’ll have to look on the bright side of things, because once again it looks like making change in the biggest areas of my life (work and love) might prove impossible.

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May 30, 2013

trouble in paradise

And now for more doubts.

I think my roommate and I will get along swimmingly– we enjoy each other’s company– but I have long known that he is fairly lazy. Despite having a lower-level and far easier job in L.A., he didn’t cook, clean, decorate, do laundry, exercise, or go out on the town. Somehow, despite having a higher-level job and far more responsibility at work, I managed to fit all those things in. He mostly lays around and watches TV, and he has a work ethic to match.

But that’s not the central problem. The problem is, while I had resolved to take some time off work, I am once again thinking of caving. I ran into a former acquaintance of mine who warned me that the job market is very tight and that it took him almost eight months to get his current job and that many of his friends have been looking for two years. He thought I should apply for those safety jobs. If I do, I will end up in a lower-level, lower-paying job than my roommate and will have a bad commute, while he is in line for a better-paid, close-by management job that I refrained for applying for because I knew he wanted it. And a small part of the reason I moved back here is that he wanted us to live together, and he acted petulant when I talked of staying on in L.A. Ultimately I own my decision and it was made for myriad reasons, but I’m afraid resentment could grow.

Argh. I don’t know what to do. I want to change my life but don’t know if it’s possible. I’ve only been here two weeks– how can I know? But if I pass on applying, I could find myself out of work for years, which is longer than I want. On the other hand, once I take one of those jobs in my former field, it will feel like the next twenty years of my life have been settled.

I am down, I admit. I sometimes feel that I just can’t change my life, no matter how much I try. I fear that if I take one of those jobs I will feel like my only distraction is the hope of a relationship, and then I’m afraid that won’t pan out either.

I’m seized by fear and doubt. I’ve worked all night on the application, thinking I should turn it in by the deadline tomorrow with the idea I could back out of an interview if I changed my mind. Or perhaps turn down an offer later on. But I don’t want to burn bridges either.

Argh.

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