A Smattering of Thoughts on a Sunday

I’ve been writing a lot more lately, but not that you would ever know. Scattered everywhere are partially finished works, almost none seeing the light of day. I’ve had everything and nothing to say of late. I’m thinking too quietly, too privately.

It’s been a strange month, year, life. Despite technically being laid off yesterday, I’m still very positive at times. I feel like things are still on the verge of getting better fast. It won’t take a lot for me to have a stunning change of fortune.

I’ve been thinking about a lot today. I sent in a resume about four days ago and now have a phone interview Monday. I’m told they receive about a thousand resumes a month, and even getting a phone interview is a great thing, let alone within the first week of applying. So, I’m feeling oddly good about myself.

I’m researching the company today, and I’ve been watching a movie called Born Into Brothels, about children in India born into marginalized prostitution, and I keep thinking how fortunate I am to have prospects at times like these. But, yeah, prospects. All over the place.

The job I’ve applied for is a stable, solid one in a respectable industry, but there’s an air of sales to it, as well. Damn straight, I can sell like no one’s biz. Trouble is, I don’t believe in sales per se, because it’s pretty simple: If you need to sell it, it ain’t worth selling. If it’s worth having, it sells itself. Most jobs, you can’t get away with living by those principles. This one, I’ll be encouraged to think in those terms, and that’s something I dig. I’ve come this far without selling out in life, so let’s see if I can take it a little further and find yet another employer I can actually believe in. (“You may say I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one.”)

So even though it can sell itself, sometimes it just needs, oh, an audio track, and then I get to provide the words. Do the math. ;) I once was ringing in a $9 sale at a toy store job, and through conversation during the ringing-up, I wound up turning that $9 sale into a $1900 sale. It took all of five minutes of talking. Shit sold itself. I was just the mediator.

And the thing is, the online resume for this company, it was one of the few that seeks out your attributes and all. In writing mine up, I remembered all the great things people have said about me over the years, and I found myself thinking more about their intentions when they told me these things. And all I could think of was, they just wanted me to know. What do they really get out of telling me how or where I shine? Not much. The only person with something to gain has been me. For too long now, I’ve discounted what has been said to me, choosing instead to believe they were “just being nice”.

How disrespectful of me. It belittles others to think everything they say is merely in effort to be pleasant. Aren’t most of us striving to be a little more real every day? I think of all the times I’ve gone out of my way to compliment someone just because I feel they deserve to know they’ve done well or simply deserve a compliment. I know I wasn’t trying to be pleasant. (I’ve written about this in a relationship POV recently; if you can’t (or don’t) trust a lover who’s complimenting you, then maybe you just don’t trust them at all.)

Y’know, I have a bulletin board on my bedroom wall. To it, I tack phone numbers, dates to remember, and even quotes that strike a chord. One reads, “Believe the hype, baby!”

Watching Oprah recently, I saw Patti Labelle on there. She’d just been asked a question: “If you could go back and talk to your younger self, what’s the most important advice you could give her?”

So, Patti says, “Believe the hype, baby.”

And that struck me so hard. So, so hard. I get people telling me more often than I deserve just how much they like me, whether it’s here in the cyberverse or out there in the real world. And so often I choose to ignore it (hence why it’s more than I deserve). Deep inside, I think of all my flaws, all the mistakes I’ve made, believing that this troubled life I lead is a result of my troubled management. I keep choosing to believe the wrong damned thing, I guess. And the thing is, how much further could I be going if I actually started believing what people have said of me?

So, I’m choosing instead to believe the hype. Baby. Tomorrow, at 2:00, I will be repeating the hype so I can get employed by one of the highest-rated employers in this country. Whew. Here’s hoping.


Something else I’ve been thinking a lot of this week is sex drive. Mine has been out of gear since last summer. The depression sort of kicked my ass, sexually speaking. I’ve been wanting to get back into dating, but I had no desire to do the whole sex thing. (Makes writing about it a real chore!) All of a sudden, I’m getting my drive back. That gear’s slipping into place now, I’ll tell ya.

It’s probably because I’ve been exercising a lot lately. I’m excited to see I have a pulse returning. It’s that blood flow thing. Gotta get pumping, right? Let’s hear it for free weights.

But it leads me to believe what I’ve been doing wrong in the job search is, I’ve had no job interviews after riotous sex. Last week, I came across a New Scientist article in which they did a study that found that some 70% of those who had full-on intercourse before doing something nerve-wracking, like public speaking, performed far better.

I’m starting to think that rug-burn + job interview = unbelievably successful (not at the same time, of course!). The problem is? I’m still single. But now I’m motivated. Aha. A girl on a mission. See, I need to go in there all bubbly and glowy and blissed-out, then I won’t care, and presto! I’ll be the “it” girl!

It’s ironic though, because the job search thing is so much more distracting than it deserves to be. Ah, well. Sooner or later, I’ll figure it out. Balance, Grasshopper! Balance!

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