Today we are having our carpets professionally cleaned. We have a wet vac, but it has failed to get the dirty areas clean and so has spot cleaning. A tip for you, if you ever buy carpeting — I realize hard wood is the preference these days — go black. Once you go black, you never go back and I swear I am talking about carpeting.

Since my husband and I moved all the furniture out of the rooms we are having cleaned, it gave me an opportunity to crawl around on my hands and knees with a dust rag and a can of Pledge to wipe down our wood baseboards. So much fun, especially in the rainy, ugly, 88% humidity.

I then moved on to the wood doors and it was there I met the enemy, The Splinter.

At first I wasn’t even sure the splinter was still in my hand, had it gone in and come out? There was a dark mark but it could have been the result of the splinter having left the premises. My husband and I both tried to determine if the intruder was still embedded but we couldn’t. He tried squeezing my hand from the bottom like that last drop of toothpaste (yes, he got his medical degree at Home Depot) but nothing popped out. I went upstairs and got under my bed light with a safety pin and began digging away. It hurt and yet I still couldn’t tell after I scraped up some of the skin.

I had my BlackBerry with me so I quick Googled (God Bless Google) “remove splinter” and there was a suggestion of using baking soda. It did say, however, to do this only after you’d tried digging and taping and tweezering.

We interrupt this blog post for a Public Service Announcement: Click HERE for that baking soda remedy.

I continued scraping around with my safety pin like the archaeologists over in Egypt, hoping to uncover a small piece of the treasure, without disturbing it and God forbid breaking it into pieces. Finally, I saw the tip of it appear out of my skin and was able to grab it between my fingernails. At last, the Shard of Pain was exhumed.

Since everything in my life is One Degree of Separation from the job search, I looked at this teeny tiny shard and related it to my job search. Like the splinter, it’s under my skin and it hurts. It’s all I can think about and I’ve tried everything to dig out the job that fits me — phone calls, emails, old-fashioned U.S. Postal letters (with a stamp and everything) — only to have it elude me and continue to hurt and weigh heavy on my heart and mind. I’ve tried Googling for how to “remove unemployment” but there have been no answers.

Although the splinter didn’t make me cry as the job search has, the splinter made me curse, it made me sweat and it made me mad.

Baking soda is not going to get me a new job. If it was, I’d be backing up a U-Haul to Costco right now. It’s gonna take more digging and more sweating and a lot more cursing. I’m gonna need a bigger safety pin . . .

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I have always had this (some might say bizarre) thing where if I’m waiting to get an answer on something and the answer comes in a “package”, I procrastinate opening the package for a long time. By package I mean if it comes in an email or a voice mail or some other message format. My reasoning (as irrational as this is I’ve still got reasoning) is that if I don’t open it then I can still hold on to the hope that it’s a positive answer. If I look and it’s a negative response, all hope is lost.

Last night I sent a follow-up email to my contact at a company I am very interested in. I had a phone interview several weeks ago that I felt went very well and they had told me it would be a few weeks but I figured there was no harm in showing interest and initiative.

This morning at 10:51 a.m. I received an email back. Four hours later, it remains unopened.

Cluck, Cluck

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It’s almost 11:30 p.m. and I came up to get ready for bed but wanted to finish a few job search emails. I’ve just sent them off and find myself looking through job sites — the same ones I looked through less than 12 hours ago. If wishing could make it happen, it would have happened by now and I would not be sitting here doing what seems to be futile acts a half-hour before midnight.

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

Ridiculous times call for ridiculous measures.

Searching for a new job is a full time job. This full time job calls for overtime.

Good night.

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Another rainy gray day in Pennsylvania as far as weather goes but in other news, the Philadelphia Phillies are the National League East Champions for the 4th year in a row! Can I get a Woot-Woot!?

I’m doing the job search today and hoping and praying that something breaks. It’s been difficult the last week trying to stay positive and to keep chipping away at it. Other than the mental scarring, it’s almost like the 3 months of working never happened and I am right back where I was those 3 years searching for a job. It’s as if I took 2 steps forward and 3 back.

I see the physical signs of those 3 months — paperwork, my badge (this company was so messed up they never even asked for my ID badge back), new work clothes and shoes, etc. And I remember all the places I travelled to while in their employ.

And yet here I sit, in my home office, on a Tuesday afternoon, going through all my job search websites once again. Truthfully I never stopped looking but now there is more at stake as I need to find something soon.

I just realized that my beloved Phillies aren’t the only ones who have a Mission October. Hopefully a “Mission Accomplished” blog entry is not far behind. For both me and my boys!

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Although one of the reasons I created this blog was to get myself to write everyday, the last thing I want to do is write for the sake of writing. The last few days have been filled with being busy with housework and other projects with the cream on the top always being my feeling of hopelessness and being stuck over the job search. The cream, by the way, is sour and gross.

Rainy and gray Monday here in Pennsylvania. I gave myself some time today to take a breath but I did get some things done. I even cleaned out email and was amazed at all the emails in my inbox and outbox.

The outbox shows all the resumes and cover letters I’ve sent to potential employers. The inbox is pretty bare in comparison, except for the automated confirmation letters you sometimes receive when you’ve applied for a job.

Your inbox should always be fuller than your outbox, don’t you think? Or at the very least, my inbox should be directly proportional to my outbox. My inbox should be full of interview confirmations and offer letters in response to the resumes and cover letters.

Isn’t there some scientific technological law for this? Or is more a phenomena, like Bigfoot or the Bermuda Triangle? Why is life so full of so many questions and so little answers? WHY ISN’T MY INBOX FULL???

The saddest part of this inane blog post is that I had to google “Bigfoot” to see if it is one word or two.

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The season premiere of “The Big Bang Theory”.

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I just applied for a few new jobs and I also (drum roll please) have an interview tomorrow morning for a position I’ve been working with a recruiter on.

On a recent flight for my JFH (Job From Hell) I sat next to a very nice lady who just took a job with a non-profit organization. I told her that my dream job is to be a Wish Coordinator for the Make-A-Wish Foundation, but the position’s salary is not enough for what my husband and I need. I “wish” that it didn’t have to be that way, but it is.

This woman was telling me that she’s one of a few people in her non-profit who gets paid a salary and she encouraged me to not give up on the non-profit world. Now here I am interviewing with a non-profit tomorrow and I’ve seen the salary range and it’s comparable to my requirement.

I’ve given up on looking for signs but maybe it’s when you give up looking for them, they find you. Could it really be that simple?

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Today is honestly the first “quiet” day since I started the-job-that-sucked in early June that I am alone with my thoughts. I usually love these days but this one is hitting me hard.

Now I am back to wondering what the Hell just happened with a little “Why? Why? Why?” thrown in for good measure. Lots of talking to God is going on today and frantic online job searching. I am back to not knowing what to do to change my situation and feeling hopeless about it.

I know it’s better to keep busy and keep the negative thoughts at bay, but conversely, at some point you’ve got to have a breather to get yourself together. Instead, it’s causing me to be even more “untogether”, if that’s even possible.

At this pity-party for one, I feel like the kid playing musical chairs whose left without one when the music stops.

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This morning I went to my local Hallmark store to purchase some cards. A lady, J, who works at this store was once my co-worker and she was there this morning with another lady also working. As I picked out my cards, I heard them laughing at the front of the store.

When I went to check out I told her that they were having way too much fun for a Monday morning. J then told me that they had found a mouse in a box they were unpacking and that they had taken the mouse outside. When I left the store J’s co-worker was outside speaking with a customer and they pointed the mouse out to me. The poor little guy was so tiny and he was in this huge, busy parking lot! I took the cards out of my bag and spent several minutes trying to capture him. Finally I did.

I held the Hallmark bag in one hand and drove him to a local park. I felt bad separating him from his family, he was obviously a baby, but I figured he had a better chance at this park than in the parking lot.

I love animals. Do I want Baby Mouse living in my house without my permission? No. But I not going to let him get run over in a parking lot either.

Have a good life little guy.

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I apologize for not staying in touch. Last week was filled with helping my husband with a project for his work and then on Friday and Saturday my husband’s family had a garage sale and we were there all day.

Yesterday was a great day. My dear friend L is a runner. When I say “runner” I don’t mean she jogs a couple of times a week. She is a RUNNER. She has run 2 marathons and is faster than ever. Yesterday she ran in a 1/2 Marathon and my husband and I were there to support her.

Just like all of us, L is many things. She is a wife, a mother, a daughter, a sister, a sister-in-law, an aunt, a niece, a friend. And she is a RUNNER. Running is her passion and she uses her gift of running to raise money for people with cancer and military families going through rough times.

L has given me many gifts over the years. There are the material ones which I use and display proudly and think of her and our friendship every time I see them. She has given me laughter and support and advice and hugs. No one gives a hug the way L does. She has given me love and she has given me me when I can’t find me. And so much more.

Watching someone you love work so hard at something and EXCEL doing it is a privilege and an honor. I am not a sit-on-the-sidelines-kind-of-girl, but for L there is NO PLACE I’d rather be.

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