Guess what is not fun at all? Looking for work. I just can’t stand it. I really shouldn’t complain; I’m young and healthy, my skills are polished, and I’m fabulously employable. But there’s something about looking for work that always sends my self-confidence into a tailspin.

Suddenly, I’m out in my little raft, in the middle of the ocean, hoping that an ocean liner is 1) going to see me frantically waving my arms and 2) stop and pick me up and 3) be the RIGHT ocean liner… not some dirty, awful ocean liner that sends me straight to work in the smelly galley, making fish-head soup.

I’m getting freaked out by all this dire talk about the failing economy on the radio. And to make matters more complex, Nate is going to be losing his job by the end of the next week (landscaping is seasonal work, dontcha know). He seems to have all these grand plans for what he’s going to do with his ‘time off’, while I’m busy working myself up into a steaming lather about the car insurance and the unpaid bills and my main dilemma: I don’t live where the work is, but I can’t afford to move. A sickening catch-22. And the unspoken irksome other thing: I don’t like being the main breadwinner. I like it even less that there will soon be no bread at all.

I have some ideas about what to do, though—so Never Fear! My Brain is Here!

Options:

1. I get a “make due” (e.g. making fish-head soup) job until I can find something more desirable.
2. I move to where the jobs are, and charge all the moving costs to Mastercard (not the best choice).
3. I find work abroad… Nate goes wherever his little heart desires, and we part ways, be it for the time being, or permanently…
4. I do a combination of working a “make due” job and volunteering at a schoolthat might be able to offer me a job when the busy season starts up again.
5. Ummmm…
   
   OK. So I’m officially scared. I’m sure that this will all pan out, one way or another; things always work out for me. Back to the grindstone I go: I need to craft a killer resumé!