Plan B

I have been checking my email a billion times a day, hoping against hope for some good news about The Job. Yesterday, I sat pondering whether it might help to invoke the power of St. Patrick in my quest. With the baby outfitted in her St. Patrick's Day finest, and with green beer and corned beef and cabbage flowing all around the planet, the goodwill of this day could surely extend a bit to my situation, or perhaps the Lucky Charms guy could just grant me my wish, and I'd be on with it. Then I remembered that my MIL once had friends bury a statute of St. Joseph upside down in their yard when they were having trouble selling their house. That made me wonder whether there was a patron saint of acquiring new jobs. According to Ameri.canCathol.ic.com, there are patron saints of things like earthquakes and laboring women and waitresses, but the closest I could find for a patron saint of employment was the patron saint of "Workers," which is. . .St. Joseph. I wonder where you bury him when you want a job? Which is all a very long way of saying that I am slowly going mad over this whole thing.

I haven't yet sorted out a way to deal with this. It could be a short time before I hear anything, or it could be a long time, I fear. I also worry that my file has slipped behind someone's desk, and that they've completely forgotten about me. As soon as I finish worrying about that, I am back to being convinced my rejection letter will arrive any minute now, of course.

Yesterday I left the house to run some errands, and realized after I'd left that I forgot my Black.berry at home. I decided not to go back for it, and it was incredibly freeing. I took Miss M. for a long walk, and then picked up some groceries, all the while completely unable to obsessively check my email. It was a huge relief. I am thinking of ditching the phone again today, but that leaves me without telephone communication, which isn't ideal.

I am a big fan of working out prizes for myself for after something momentous. After the Big Project, we went to Borneo (well, actually Honduras, but euphamistically Borneo). I've been trying to figure out what my Borneo will be if The Job doesn't work out. I'm going to need a Borneo, a silver lining, something to cheer me up and keep me moving (other than Miss M, of course). It needs to be something that I wouldn't be able to do if I got The Job. What to do, what to do. . .

I think I'm going to build an elaborate raised bed garden for myself this year if I don't get The Job, and I'm going to completely redecorate the house. I've always wanted raised beds. I am an avid gardener, but my soil is complete crap--heavy clay, which has loads of nutrition, but it's damn near impossible to get anything to put its roots down throuh it (except for coneflowers, which have a root system that LOVES our clay). I want to do pretty raised beds with good soil, with brick pathways and a picket fence around it all to keep the local wildlife at bay.

The garden will be a bit of work, but since we've just finished renovating the house, the redecorating isn't as elaborate as it sounds. It really just means a few new rugs, curtains, and a few pieces of furniture. I made a preemptive strike on the redecorating front this past weekend, so sure am I that The Job is not going to work out. I found a mint condition, brand new Crat.e & Barr.el dresser marked down from $1000 to $300, and just couldn't pass it up. I've been looking for a dresser for the nursery, but hated the quality (and price) of the ones from the baby furniture store that matched our crib. The best part is that the dresser I found on sale matches the crib perfectly! It makes me happy to get a deal, especially when it looks so good in my house.

I may not be able to buy happiness, but I can sure try.