F.U.B.A.R!

If you have ever seen the movie, "Tango and Cash", then you know the meaning of the title.

How do I begin to discuss the utter disappointments that I have experienced since May 2006? Most know the stories so I dare not relive them by posting them again. Well, things just keep getting progressively worse. EVERY job interview that I have been on has resulted in the, “Thank you for your interest email.” It is amazing how companies no longer send letters you receive an email now. I am beyond the point of crying anymore as I have no tears left to shed. I am tried of reflecting on all the mistakes and wrong choices which led me to this place. And quite frankly, if one more person tells me that God is teaching me a lesson, I will forget for a brief moment that I know Jesus and say words that would make a sailor blush.

All the sacrifices that I have made during the past three years were for naught. The very people that I gave up my dreams for have gone on to greener pastures and here I sit in cow manure. What’s fair about that? I really detest saying, “It’s so unfair.” It was unfair that Blacks were hung, Jews were exterminated, and that Jesus was nailed to the cross. Who cares about what’s fair? The only thing that keeps me from sinking into a deep depression is my daughter. Who else does she have? I look at her and marvel at innocence. She is so fascinated by the fact that she can make the little cow sing on her chair toy without my help that everything else is futile.

Yes, I know all the clichés. When one door closes another opens; things can only get better; when you complain of having no shoes think of the man with no feet; and so on and so forth. On the surface my life is fine. I have a house, a daughter, a husband. RAH! On the inside, I am really, really, really pissed off. I hate living in Georgia, yet I am stuck. I wanted to be a flight attendant again—but was told, “No.” I was even turned down for a job as a clerk. A CLERK! No one is overqualified when she is unemployed. I HAVE MADE STOOPID, STOOPID, STOOPID (forgive the ghetto spelling—that was intentional) mistakes and this time, I can’t fix them. In the words of Florida Evans, Damn, DAmn, DAMN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!