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Last week I was on top of the world.
I had finally found a job that blended my favorite things (yay!) and was able to put in my two-week notice at my current job -- which I like but isn't exactly in my wheelhouse. The new job was closer to home, so I had visions of getting to soccer practice on time and earlier dinners with the family. Day dreams of just running to the office in the morning, after school bus drop off, in less than 25 minutes.
The dreams when psft this week -- as did my entire week.
The new job retracted the offer (I needed too much vacation time -- two weeks in the summer. geez!). Alice spent Wednesday night vomiting. My current job has already replaced me. But I now get to stay and train my replacement. My head is whirling as the plans I had for the spring and summer shatter into a thousand pieces. Back to serious job-hunting ... and not just the slow browse for the right thing, as I had been doing for the last year.
And, to top it off, I found my favorite Brooks Brother sweater -- the gray one I bought at a consignment shop when I was pregnant with Leah and wore weekly -- in the washing machine. Shrunk to kid size.
And it's only Thursday. I feel like hiding under my covers tomorrow, as there's likely just more bad news around the corner.
I had finally found a job that blended my favorite things (yay!) and was able to put in my two-week notice at my current job -- which I like but isn't exactly in my wheelhouse. The new job was closer to home, so I had visions of getting to soccer practice on time and earlier dinners with the family. Day dreams of just running to the office in the morning, after school bus drop off, in less than 25 minutes.
The dreams when psft this week -- as did my entire week.
The new job retracted the offer (I needed too much vacation time -- two weeks in the summer. geez!). Alice spent Wednesday night vomiting. My current job has already replaced me. But I now get to stay and train my replacement. My head is whirling as the plans I had for the spring and summer shatter into a thousand pieces. Back to serious job-hunting ... and not just the slow browse for the right thing, as I had been doing for the last year.
And, to top it off, I found my favorite Brooks Brother sweater -- the gray one I bought at a consignment shop when I was pregnant with Leah and wore weekly -- in the washing machine. Shrunk to kid size.
And it's only Thursday. I feel like hiding under my covers tomorrow, as there's likely just more bad news around the corner.
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