So the recruiter told me today that he wants to recommend me for a 2nd interview.

And I’m trying not to get my hopes up.

Yet.

*****

Lemme back up a bit.

After being laid off at the end of February, I didn’t rush to start looking for a job. I didn’t have to. I was receiving a decent severance paid bi-weekly, just like a regular paycheck. Plus the job market here sucked ASS. So what was the point of putting myself out there, only to be slapped in the face every time I turned around?

Exactly.

*****

So now it’s a few months later and the severance is running out.

And the lease on my townhouse is running out.

And I got a letter yesterday that the owner of the townhouse is listing it for sale and I’m supposed to give my 30-day notice.

And I can’t move to a new place until I have continuing income.

(Have I mentioned that I hate moving? Well, I fucking hate it.)

And I haven’t gotten any response on the resumes I have sent out so far.

And I’m FREAKING OUT.

But…

I got an email on Tuesday from a recruiter that found my resume on Monster for a possible data entry position. I called him yesterday and expressed my interest in the position. I had my 1st interview today, which I hope will get me a 2nd interview with the hiring manager next week.

The interview went well. I think.

They are looking to fill 2 positions. The recruiter hopes to call tomorrow to arrange 2nd interviews for the beginning of next week. He also said the goal is to make offers by the end of next week.

It would be really REALLY great if this job worked out. Y’all are rooting for me, right?

The cubicle walls are bare. All the cabinets and drawers are empty. Almost. The write board is completely white, except for the lone Café Rio magnet in the corner. The name tag I created is the only thing left to prove I was once there. But it won’t be there much longer.

I say goodbye to the head of Accounting, thanking her again for lunch today. The head of our corporate Finance Department wishes me luck in my future endeavors. He really doesn’t know me. But I accept his good wishes. What else can I do?

Heading down the stairs, I feel the tears wanting to come. But I hold them back. Not today. I will not let my emotions…well, you know.

I remember how earlier today my boss refused to talk about tomorrow being my last day. I will miss her. I know she will miss me. I think she feels badly that she is now staying on another month. A recent change. I don’t blame her. I feel so grateful to have met her and gotten to know her. It is sad that she will be there alone now. I will miss her.

I walk out the door and get in my car. I only have to do this one more time. Tomorrow.

My last day.

I know it will be hard. Very hard. I don’t want to say goodbye. I work with some great people. I am forever changed by having them in my life. I refuse to let them walk out of my life when I walk out the door for the last time. I think it will be slightly easier knowing I will meet some of them later for drinks.

And I WILL drink.

I back my car out and leave the parking lot.

One more time.

Tomorrow.

I am in my last week of work. Four more days until I am officially laid off. Is it bad to say that I already wish it was over?

I received my separation packet last Friday. I was totally fine while the HR rep went over the agreement. That was until he thanked me for my professionalism regarding the lay off. Which made me start thinking, “Well HELL how am I supposed to act it’s not like I didn’t know this was coming for a YEAR NOW and can we just get this over with, cuz I don’t wanna have to think about this right now I have to go deal with my daughter’s first weekend visitation with her father and I HAVE to be home right now and OMG I’m gonna be without a job and divorced and what the FUCK am I gonna do I’ll be an outta work divorcee student with a daughter at home who will be hitting puberty soon enough and I’M TOTALLY FREAKING OUT RIGHT NOW BUT I REFUSE TO LET YOU SEE ME CRY MOTHERFUCKER!”

Yeah, he really doesn’t have a clue how close he came to being stabbed right then. Prolly for the best.

**********

It’s been a week since I made the husband move out. How am I doing? Well, I’m handling it. That’s all I can do right now. Take each day as it comes, knowing that some days will be better than others. School will keep me busy, especially starting next week when I won’t be going to work anymore. And I have a long to do list that I plan to make a huge dent in. Finally.

I’m staying strong for my daughter. Even though she is dealing with it fairly well so far, I know this is hard for her. She was understandably upset when her father moved out. And she was sad after her first visitation with him bcuz she felt she didn’t get to spend enough time with him. I completely understand that. I tell her that it’s okay for her to feel sad, angry, etc. about the situation. I tell her that none of this is her fault and that her father and I love her VERY MUCH. I tell her that I’m here for her to talk to about anything. Anytime.

I am amazed with the changes in me I have already seen. The past two years I was hiding more and more at home. Hiding from the tension. Hiding from being hurt. Hiding from him. And I was losing myself in the process. I feel I am coming back now, though, and it feels really good. I know I will stumble occasionally, but I am definitely moving forward. Forward is good.

**********

Friday was the Elton John/Billy Joel concert at the Energy Solutions Arena (which I don’t care what you say, it will ALWAYS be the Delta Center to me). The concert was originally scheduled in November, but had to be postponed bcuz of illness (Damn old men, WTH? Never mind we partied it up big time anyway WITHOUT YOU. So there!).

The show? Well, it was AWESOME!!!!!

We started out in nosebleed seats. They were totally fine cuz the sound was great and they had a screen set up above them so you could see a little better on that when they showed them. But then, Sarah’s dad got us down on the floor. YAY SARAH’S DAD! Y’all are jealous now. I know. Billy played one of my favs of his songs, Allentown, and the two of them played one of my fav Elton songs, The Bitch is Back (which means more than they will ever know right now ). Michelle and I sang pretty much all the songs (loudly of course) and it was a blast. And I will never forget Billy Joel talking about how he always wanted to “mess up” Marie Osmond when he once used the Osmond studio for rehearsals. And if you’re thinking oh no he di’int? Oh yes he did. LOL

I haven’t gone through all the pictures yet, but here’s one of Billy and Elton together on the screen.

Did I mention that the concert was just plain AWESOME? Yeah, well, it’s worth repeating. Trust me.

**********

So. I’ve been hit with a lot of spam comments on my blog for almost a week now. I know I’ll never come close to dooce or The Bloggess, but does this mean I’m getting closer to being in the big leagues?

No? Oh, ok. I’ll keep working on it then. j/k

It’s almost over. Four more weeks is all that remains. And I couldn’t be happier about it. I think.

I’m talking about the end of my job, which I have mentioned before here, here, and here. The end date set for me and my boss is the end of February. The rest of my department that’s being let go? Their end date is tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

There’s no hiding from it anymore. Not like I was hiding from it anyway. But still. I know tomorrow will be slapping me in the face yelling, “WAKE UP DUMBASS! THIS WILL BE YOU IN A MONTH!”

*eyeroll*

I’m actually ready to be laid off. My to do list is gargantuan at this point and I’m sure as hell not getting anything done sitting on my ass at work surfing porn sites the Internet. I am able to get my homework done at work, though, but there is only so much homework to do. Most days, I’m sitting on my hands to avoid IM’ing people in the office to keep me entertained, bcuz they actually do have work to do!

But by saying I’m ready to be laid off, I don’t mean that I’m always ok with it. I am ok with having some time off to go to school while I’m still being paid. I am ok with being able to catch up on that massive to do list I have. And maybe clean & organize my house some. Maybe. But not having a job throws a wrench in my plans to move forward. That I’m not ok with. And I will miss people in my department. And I will miss people in the company. Some more than others.

Wanna hear something funny? I actually flip off the TV when commercials for my ‘new’ company come on. Usually accompanied with some colorful words like, “THANKS A LOT MOTHERFUCKERS!” But I’m not telling you who the company is, cuz I think it’s better to keep my occasional moments of planning to bomb the building pettiness bitterness to myself. (As I’ve mentioned before, though, I can be bribed with booze. Nuff said.)

It’s gonna get awfully quiet around here. Fast.

WARNING: This post is a HUGE rant that covers a couple of decade’s worth of shit and even then I’m barely touching on SO many things. I TOTALLY understand if you want to run screaming from it. I want to run screaming from it, and it’s my life! If you do dare to actually read it, well then, consider yourself forewarned.

*****

I have an ex-husband. I admit it.

It’s not that I hide my first marriage. Not in the least. My first marriage played a very big part in shaping the person I am today. I just usually refer to it indirectly (second marriage, second husband, etc.). If you have checked out my sidebar, you might have noticed that I acknowledge my ex-husband briefly. Very. Briefly. And then I go on to say that I don’t like to talk about him. EVER.

I hate my ex-husband. Hate him. Yes, I did just use the H word. And yes, I do know how harsh that sounds.

I met my ex when I was a senior in high school. My first job was at the local roller skating rink (remember those?) and my ex worked there too. We met and got along well enough and started dating about a month after I started working at the rink.

Our relationship…..overall…..was volatile. I can’t think of a better word to describe it. We fought A LOT. I wouldn’t say it was abusive. But it sure as hell wasn’t healthy. It took me years to figure out that I jumped from the frying pan into the fire. I used him as my excuse to get away from my family, which was dysfunctional with a capital D.

I fooled myself into thinking that I loved my ex and stayed in the relationship because the alternative to me was so much worse. It was either him or my family. And it was imperative that I stay away from my family. They were quicksand to me (but that’s a post for another day). So I stayed. Even though he treated me badly. Even through the drugs. Even through the lies.

And then we broke up for a while. Sure, I know NOW that the break up was the best thing. But then? Breaking up with my ex forced me back to my family, which by this time was totally falling apart. I didn’t want to be around that. I still felt I had to get away from them. So when my ex apologized, I took him back.

I was pregnant with my son soon after and we were married a few months later.

After my son was born (at least I think it was after), my ex started having unexplained seizures that left him on disability and without a driver’s license. We had to move in with his parents, which just added more stress and things were already bad between us. By the time he went back to work and we moved out, the relationship was in shambles. The lies started again. When I confronted him with the huge lie he had told all along about his health issues, I said it was over. I took my son and left.

I struggled on my own. And I made mistakes. HUGE mistakes. Mistakes that I still kick myself for. One of those mistakes gave my ex the foothold he needed to separate my son from me. After that, he filed for divorce. Before the divorce was final, I felt like I hadn’t given the marriage 100% effort. I know now that it really was about still staying away from my family. I just didn’t have enough faith in myself.

The lies continued. My ex said that he had a vasectomy. Can you guess what happened next? You got it. I wound up pregnant. Luckily, that pregnancy did not go to term. I can’t even begin to imagine what it would have been like if we had another child together. I don’t want to.

Sadly, I stayed with him for quite a few more months. The divorce was final, but we were still dating. At some point, I FINALLY got a clue! I realized that I had given the marriage every effort, and that I deserved so much better. I told my ex that it was over.

To say he took it badly was an understatement. And he had the upper hand. He had my son. My ex knew that I wanted nothing to do with him, but he knew I wanted my son. And he used it against me every chance he got. When I moved out of state a few years later, I tried to work with my ex on a reasonable visitation, but he would have none of it. The day I left CA was the worst day ever. I didn’t see my son after that for 7 years.

My ex wasn’t planning to make it easy for me to stay in touch. He changed his phone number and refused to let me have it to try to keep me from contacting my son. He even took my son out of town on a weekend I drove back to CA. Yes, my ex knew I was coming. I made plans with him a month in advance. He was just being vindictive. I also knew he was bad mouthing me to my son (which was confirmed in a conversation my son and I had a couple of year s ago). He even told my son that if I attended his high school graduation, he wouldn’t be there. I showed up anyway (TAKE THAT MOTHERFUCKER!).

Thankfully, my son’s (paternal) grandmother made sure I was in his life. She is the primary reason I have such a good relationship with my son today. I will never forget her for that.

*****

I told you all of that because of the phone call I received from my son today. It started off as any other normal conversation. He wanted to get a phone number from me. The more he talked, though, the more I knew something was off. So I asked what happened. He said his father kicked him out last night.

And I wanted to kill my ex. Right fucking then and there.

My son was out here in Utah for a visit just a week ago. We talked about how things were at home. I was concerned at how my son described his father’s recent actions. They didn’t make sense to me. I wondered if his actions had anything to do with my son coming out to visit me. I kept it to myself, though, for my son’s sake. I only said here and there that I didn’t agree with certain things and that I didn’t understand why his father was being that way.

When my son went back home it seemed like things were going to be okay. He told his father he was going to move up to Sacramento because the city college there had space available in his degree (the junior college in Stockton where he currently lives is full). I supported his decision and it sounded like his father did too.

I don’t know what changed. And neither does my son. An argument yesterday culminated in my ex telling my son to get out and leave his keys. He also told my son that he is not allowed to call the house or his father’s cell phone. My son is not allowed to go to the house to get his things. Until this Thursday. For 3 hours. Seriously?!?!

I am at a loss. I don’t understand this at all. My son doesn’t do drugs. He doesn’t drink. He doesn’t smoke. He goes to his classes. He EXCELS in his classes. He is responsible. I DO NOT understand what could have happened that would justify this kind of reaction from my ex.

And it makes me wonder if it has to do with me. Is this my ex’s final vengeful act? He can’t use custody against me anymore, since my son is an adult. So is this his one last ditch effort to try to hurt me? I don’t know.

What does hurt me is that I’m not close enough to help my son. I want so badly to be there for him. But I can’t. And it kills me right now. I’ve been crying on and off since I got his call today. I know my son is strong and he will get through this, but I feel like he needs me. And dammit I’M HIS MOTHER! I should be there, right?

Good job, sperm donor. You get an A+ for acting like an ass and driving your son away. I hope you’re proud of yourself. Because in the end, YOU’RE the one who has truly lost.

He was pissed off. At me. I didn’t understand why. So I asked.

Instead of getting an answer, I was insulted. I was called a whore.

I didn’t understand why.

The insults continued.

I explained that I didn’t deserve to be treated that way. I didn’t do anything wrong.

I was told that I was not trusted. That I was in danger of crossing a line.

I wasn’t. I was falsely accused.

I never did anything remotely close to what I was being accused of. I know I didn’t. I explained that and the insults stopped. I thought things would calm down.

I was wrong.

Somewhere in the middle of the conversation, I was the bad person again. The insults resumed.

And then it was quiet. He left.

Hours later, I received an apology, but I was still upset. I wasn’t being unreasonable. An apology just didn’t sweep it all away and make it not have happened. And when I explained that?

I was told to bury it.

Not asked.

Told.

Demanded actually.

I was supposed to bury the fact that I had been treated badly. I was supposed to act as if nothing ever happened.

How could I do that? WHY would I do that?

And because I wouldn’t ‘bury it’, I was the bad person all over again. The cycle repeated. The insults resumed.

Except that I still had not done anything wrong.

And I still didn’t understand why.

The next morning, I received another apology. I was told he was wrong. I was told he overreacted. I was told he acted immaturely. But he still didn’t acknowledge that I didn’t do anything wrong.

I explained that I can’t let this keep happening. I can’t continue to be a verbal punching bag. He agreed.

So now I try to get past it. But it’s hard. It gets harder each time. And when I think about what happened…

…I still don’t understand why.

*sigh*

Have you ever had days where you were upset, really upset, about something but you don’t feel like you can talk to anyone about it cuz everyone knows that you made a decision and that your reasons behind that decision were logical and if you complain about having a bad time you will hear them say just suck it up or move on and you desire neither being unfair to them for having to hear about your situation YET AGAIN nor hearing someone else say what you have already said to yourself repeatedly, leaving you feel completely alone?

Yeah, me neither.

Except today…..aaaaannnd maybe yesterday too…..and maybe the day before that. So pretty much every damn day.

Ok…..so maybe not every day.

There are days when the logic prevails and I’m reminded that this was a GREAT decision. It’s been going well. Everything has been moving forward. The light at the end of the tunnel is getting a little closer.

Then there are the days when I repeatedly kick myself at the stupidity of this self-torture I’ve subjected myself to on a freaking near-daily basis. The days when I wonder just how small I will be made to feel. The days when I think I would be so much better off on my own as a single parent. The days when I think of possible reasons for hiring a hit man drinking myself into oblivion running off with a sugar daddy avoiding going home.

I won’t go into detail as to why I feel like screaming at the top of my lungs today (many days actually). The details aren’t important. And I know that when my best friend in the whole wide world reads this, she’ll be saying, “I’ll take Dumbasses whose names begin with the letter ‘R’ for $200 Alex.” Cuz even though I won’t tell her what’s going on, she KNOWS. And I love her for that.

And I know I will get past this. I will get to one of those days when logic will win out. Hopefully I will start to see more of those.

Well, I just finished my homework, so let’s see if I can downshift and talk about this weekend. I know there are some curious minds out there. Now, it’s entirely possible that this will make sense to no one else but me. And I will not be in the least offended if you run screaming from this post. LOL

Last Friday is the Rick Springfield concert in Wendover. The show starts at 8pm and the trip takes 2 hrs from our house(especially going down Bangerter). I plan to leave home around 5 pm to allow time for motel check-in and maybe food (big maybe). The husband leaves work at Noon to take our daughter to stay with his mother. Even with travel time, he has plenty of time to get ready. I leave work at 4pm, like I planned, cuz I can’t take the day off or leave much earlier than that. I plan to dress casual, cuz it’s not Vegas people. It’s just Wendover. But I want to fix my hair and makeup a little, though. Anyone who really knows me knows that I didn’t already have my hair and makeup done for work. And I still need to pack a few things. I get home to find the husband dressing up. And I’m all, “You don’t need to dress up. I’m not.” He says he wants to dress a little nicer. Fine. Whatever. I pack my stuff in the suitcase and all that’s left is to change my top and fix my hair/makeup. Husband says he thought about going to the bank, but didn’t actually do it cuz we can stop by on the way out of town. That makes no sense to me since he left work more than 4 hours ago, but fine. Whatever. He then remarks that he didn’t realize this was a dress rehearsal. And I’m all, “Dress rehearsal? WTH is that supposed to mean?” And he says nevermind, which of course pisses me off. So when he does finally answer me, it’s a derogatory remark about me wanting to make myself look a little nicer. And I’m all, WTF? You’re dressing up and you can’t understand why I wanna do my hair and put on some makeup? You left work when? And you couldn’t bother to stop by the bank to save us some time? Seriously? Ok, so that was all in my head, but still. I was pissed. So I go into the bathroom (slamming the door for the desired effect) and realize that there’s no time to do my hair or makeup. That’s just great. Thankyouverymuch. I throw my hair up in a ponytail and come out of the bathroom to start throwing my last few things together. Maybe I’ll have some time once we get there to put some makeup on. I tell the husband that I’m upset about not doing anything wrong, but yet being made to feel really small for needing to do a few things. The husband then decides to tell me to go by myself and to have a good time. I NEED to have a good time by myself, he says. And I’m all, “Absolutely not! I’m not going to give you an opportunity to throw it back in my face later that I was a bitch who kept you from going to this concert! You’re going!” I may not speak to you for the entire trip, but you are FUCKING GOING! Ok, so that last part was an exaggeration. I grab everything except his CPAP and stomp down the stairs. The husband is behind me mumbling how I’m stubborn for not letting him carry anything. And I’m thinking, Dood, you just need to shut the hell up and get in the damn car before I change my mind! I throw everything in the car. And realize I’m starving. I know I won’t be eating before the show and I WILL be drinking. A LOT. That’s a given at this point. So I search the pantry for something to eat and the husband asks if I want yogurt. And I’m all, “Yogurt? And exactly how am I supposed to eat that?” He says with a spoon. And I’m all, “Seriously? While I’m driving?” Cuz I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let YOU drive! We get on the road and he doesn’t say a word. Not one. For like 30 minutes. And I’m thinking, Dood, you are SO not helping your case. He finally apologizes, and for once it actually sounded sincere (Long story. Really REALLY long story.). And he offers to drive so I can get ready. No way I’m letting him drive when we’re in a time crunch. HELL no. So we settle into a slightly less awkward silence for a while, which is just fine by me.

The rest of the drive was uneventful until the last 30 miles or so, which is where we encounter a bunch of drivers that are freakin’ STOOPID. They have no idea of how to drive on a two-lane highway (hint: YOU DON’T CAMP YOUR ASS IN THE LEFT LANE! I’m just sayin.). My tolerance on the road is…oohh…zero. Zilch. Nada. Especially now. So, to get away from them, I end up doing 100 the rest of the way to Wendover. The husband looks over at one point, and I’m all, “Yes, I AM doing a hundred!” Just stay on your side of the car. You’re still on my shitlist! Ok, so I only really said that first part. But the rest was on the tip of my tongue, I promise you.

Capping off the night? The motel. I have a reservation, but there’s a delay checking in. The desk clerk goes to get someone’s help. Oh shit. This other person comes out and says that the reservation was cancelled. Ummmmm, I didn’t cancel my reservation. The new clerk says they have one room available (a suite) that’s $129.95. Ummmm, I STILL didn’t cancel my reservation that was booked at $60. She says they’ll get it fixed. She calls customer service who tells her they cancelled the reservation per a phone call on 9/6/09. Ummmm, oooook. I supposedly called to cancel my reservation that I made ONLINE and no one thought to send me a confirmation ONLINE that it was cancelled? Sure, I totally get that. I do it all the time. Amazingly, I stay calm (I have NO idea how at this point). The clerk says they’ll fix it and gets us a room. I’m all, Didn’t you just say that you only had one room? Sweet, we’re gettin the suite? Niiiice! Oh, we’re getting a regular room? Fine. I’ll take it. We’re running out of time before the show starts, so I don’t fucking care anymore. I just want a place to sleep tonight. Wait! Didn’t you just say that you only had one room left?

We head straight to the concert hall after that and I’m so close to spewing forth the slew of 4-letter words I’ve been bottling up for the past 2 hours. Ask Twitter. I’ve got just enough time to throw on some mascara before the concert. And with a wave of that magic wand, I’m transformed into Princess Cinderella who gets swept off her feet by Prince Charming. Ok, so maybe it wasn’t quite that magical. Rick never got anywhere near me. But I got to see a great show.

And I can’t believe it just took me 3 hours to write this. I was reliving it…..in real-time. Great.

Having this time to myself just wasn’t what I thought it would be.

When the husband said he was finally being sent out of town for work, I dropped to my knees and cried, “My prayers have been answered, thank you LORD!” But then I remembered that I’m agnostic, so that didn’t really help. I thought that the time apart would be a good break from the tension in the house. And it has been. But along with that, came something I wasn’t expecting. Something that I am having a difficult time explaining (even to myself). I found that I focused on how much I wanted to be free of this ‘arrangement’ and to move on with my life. To hopefully find love again. And I realized how scared I am that I won’t be able to find it. That I won’t be able to have a lasting, loving relationship (that is after the prince charges up on his white steed and sweeps me off my feet – good dream!). It keeps me up at night and helps me plot how I’m going to stab the husband as he sleeps cuz I can he snores.

I recently bought the eternity necklace above. I’m not superstitious. I just liked the idea of wearing these rings near my heart reminding me of things I need to hold onto through this tough time (cuz I couldn’t find faith, trust, and pixie dust). If they don’t work I can always start rubbing my rabbit’s foot, knocking on wood, and spinning around clockwise 7 times.

P.S. I’m watching An Officer and a Gentleman on cable and they dubbed over & bleeped out the word wop. This country’s going to hell. I should probably try to get some sleep, but the odds of success are not in my favor. Good thing the husband is not here or he would be in serious danger if he eyeballed me.

P.P.S. Oh, I need a drink.

Sadly, the husband & I are sitting at the kitchen table…..playing on our respective laptops. Yes, this is our Saturday night entertainment. I have yet to decide if we have no lives, are getting old, or are just too fucking lazy to do something decent on a Saturday nite. It seriously went downhill when the husband opened his mouth & inserted both feet (as he usually does). After a lull in the conversation, he says, “I’m looking on Travis’ page right now.” I asked, “His Facebook page? Are you still on Facebook?” He replied, “Yeah. His oldest daughter? Is really freakin’ cute.” And I’m all, “Dood! I’m sitting right FUCKING here!!!!!!!!!!”

Now I realize that this is pretty much a marriage of convenience (& certainly not the good kind of convenience), but I keep looking over at the knife block, trying to decide if it’s worth going to jail to make my point. Hmmm…decisions, decisions.

Update – The husband tried to get out of he hole he had dug himself into by saying, “If she were mine, she would be locked up.”

So not helping your case dood.