ventwithme’s blog

I could win the Nobel Prize and be upset about finding a gown that didn't make me look fat.

Similarly, if my job title isn't good or if I am not praised for my work, my self esteem drops.  Right now it is circling the proverbial drain.

I work in PR (and am good at it).  I had a job but hated it because the hours were long (24/7 -- what am I?  A doctor?)  I was tired all the time and miserable.  Plus I had some prospects on the horizon.  My reputation was good (was being the operative word) so I called some of them and got some interviews.  Good.  All good.

Then I got a call from an office where I have had good relations but they decided that I should never call there again.  I cheked my phone and email so see if I had been stalking them but three calls in a week is not stalking.

What do you think?

NOT the "will you marry me?" question.  That may or may not be a good thing but as I enter my mid 30's my gyn asked if I plan to have children.  I have no idea.  I date (am single and hetero, despite my mother's best efforts, and by best efforts I mean marrying the worst men she could find to set the most horrible example of what married life is like) but remain alone.  Books, TV, everyone tells me it is me that keeps the ring off my finger but I think I want to get married.  I do not want to be alone.  If for no other reason than I don't want to deal with financial crap that accompanies staying alone.

Thoughts?

Welcome to my blog.  You've arrived at a particularly interesting point because sitting here, in front of a blank page the only word I can think of that describes how I feel is road kill.  A long time ago, in what seems to be a different world, I worked for someone I believed in.  I woke up every morning and my first thought was, I cannot believe I am getting paid to do this.  I was young then, naïve, trusting -- thought I saw myself as world weary and seasoned -- and gave very ounce of who I am to that job and several that followed it.  One morning, back then, I arrived at an area where I was supposed to set up a rally and it was a mess.  It was about 4:00 am, no one had shown up to help and road kill stretched as far as the eye could see.  I did not know it then but one of those pieces was me, just a few years later.

I am still relatively young but bitter.  This site is all about that bitterness that comes with being a single woman who is important to the world, at least when she is very young, only if she is well endowed and reasonably pretty.  When I was 13 I got my first bra, mix that with red hair and blue eyes and those are the only things people saw.  It was a different time then.  Being tan was the loom to have.  Being freckled and pale was not so it did not even occur to me I might be pretty until it was too late.

None of this is relevant now.  Now I look back on a career I thought mattered and find it crumbles like sand through my fingers.  We are taught to always 'see the glass as half full' but what if there is a hole at the bottom and no matter how much you pour, just as much departs.  I am tired of working so hard all the time for things that maybe do not matter.  Associates are nice enough to tell me that I do not suck but clearly I do or I would not be writing a self-indulgent, self-pity message at almost 1:00 am.

So let's look at this differently.  It is not self-pity; it is realism masquerading as something else.  But my bitterness is nothing else, just that.  I worked for years for someone who barely knew my name and still managed to break what's left of my heard today.

Way. To. Go.