Was the day that felt like everything had just gone to hell, which is a good topic to discuss on this, the Saturday, the supposed day of the rapture, an event that I don't believe is happening as I've seen nothing in the series of tubes of people being lifted up into the sky at 6pm.
Thursday was the day I received a phone call from the unemployment office saying, in essence, that I did not qualify for unemployment because I did not make enough money at Borders and because my separation from my former employer was voluntary. To the credit of the Mr. F (no first name) he sounded almost sympathetic as I explained that the separation from my last job was due to the stress of a probation that was indefinite and ill-defined (as I received no goals for improvement or milestones to reach).
So I'm out of personal money, a point that was driven home when I attempted to purchase two new bras at Marshall's yesterday and discovered that I did not have my check card with me. My check card was sitting in a drawer with my checkbook, placed there as an acknowledgment that I have no money.
No money for bras. Which I need, as the ones I purchased after Linus' birth are ratty and ill fitting. All my clothes are ill fitting right now. My new pants slide down my hips. One pair manages to be too large and has a zipper that refuses to stay properly up. The new t-shirts did not survive the first wash. I look and feel like a slob.
Thursday was also the day that I realized that no job offer would be forthcoming. D, the recruiter, had promised to call me last Monday. It is now Saturday and I have not received a phone call. Which means no offer.
I stood up for myself and it turned out to be a pyrrhic victory. Unemployed, no income, simultaneously overqualified and unqualified to work.
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