Sometimes you need a pity party. Sometimes you don’t know you need one and someone hosts one for you anyway and doesn’t tell you it’s gonna be tomorrow at noon and when you show up where you always show up on Tuesdays at noon, there it is, waiting for you. Surprise!! It’s a surprise pity party! YEA!!!!
Sometimes that someone hosting the party is you. Okay…so pretty much 99.99% of the time, pity parties are hosted by the person who is the guest of honor. That’s how pity parties work. You basically wallow and get drunk on how unsatisfactory you feel until something else distracts you from feeling sorry for yourself. So if you want to join me in my pity party, stick around, it’s gonna be a laugh riot! We’re gonna party so hard you’ll feel sick for days!!
So the story of my pity party is that I applied for another job in writing, social media, and graphic design and I had an interview last week. I determined ahead of time that I wasn’t going to blog about it because dammit that just seems unlucky for me and I didn’t want to jinx anything. So I was quiet and stealth about it. You guys had no idea! And…unlike normal, I was feeling optimistic. This job was in my old department, granted it’s a pretty big department and this was a different branch, however it’s still the same department and there are people there who can speak well of me. So I thought maybe I could make this shit happen. I interviewed, it seemed to go well and then I waited to hear the results. There were 5 other candidates, so of course I was concerned and imagining exactly how awesome these other people were and picking myself apart for every “um” during my interview.
This weekend I got the letter that started the pity party. It was the…rejection letter, in the mail, on a Saturday afternoon after I had just enjoyed a wonderful “winter carnival” outside with my husband’s family (bonfire, snow-mobiles (say it as 2 words, just for fun), 3 wheelers and meats with cheese, duh!). As soon as I saw the envelope, I knew it wasn’t going to be good news. That’s not how they offer you a position. That’s how they try to let you down gently. It’s not you, it’s me, what not, what not.
And then I proceeded to privately lose it in the confines of my own house. The pity party was in full swing and an exciting one it was too, just ask James. He was actually the only other person invited at the time because he just happens to live in the same house as me. Lucky man! He claims he didn’t get an invitation and he wasn’t going to go, but he did because it was delivered via singing telegram, it was just very last minute and then I drove him to the party and forced him inside and the festivities commenced! We partied like ANIMALS!! Or like it was 1999! Or I did and he watched and listened and tried to tell me not to drink so much pity. But I was determined that I was going to get drunk on pity. I was going to drink so much pity that I would cease to exist! And no one could stop me! I’m an adult after all and of legal pity drinking age and I will do WHATEVER I want! Dammit!
Can you see me now? Wah, wah, wah like a big baby! Chugging self-pity from two 40 oz bottles that I duct taped to my hands while blubbering about how no one loves me. Double fisting the pity! Really working hard for that pity! Stomping around the house like a large child, making recriminations, drunkenly pity pointing out things that make absolutely no sense. Pointing fingers at self, making outrageous points by pointing finger in the air with exclamation points. Cursing heaven and hell, high dramatics better suited for the stage than real life because of their full on cheese, temper tantrums, self recriminations, blathering, runny nose, stingy eyes, totally an adult bout of losing one’s cool. Very very professional, of course. I’m never NOT professional.
So I was pretty bummed and of course, being me, I was beating myself up over it like crazy and wondering what I did wrong. That’s part of the problem with applying for jobs, they never really let you know why you didn’t get the job or why they picked the person they did. So it’s hard to come away from it knowing what to do with yourself. If it was clear that you were missing a specific something, or you feel you couldn’t properly answer a question during the interview, it would be easier to know how to proceed forward. In this case, I heard they hired someone with a completely different skill set than mine. I’m not sure exactly what that means. If they had some of the same skills but gained them in a different manner or just had completely different skills, which wouldn’t make much sense to me because they advertised for a certain skill set, the exact one that I have.
And then it was MONDAY. The dreaded! The terrible! Going into the office at your current day job knowing that you’re going to a job you’re not very excited about and there’s no other job on the horizon and feeling terribly hung over from your bender in pitydom. However, luckily the pity party, though fun and wild, was pretty short lived. I guess I’m a lightweight now, I just can’t pity party like I used to be able to. And like all hard partying, I’m embarrassed and ashamed of my drunk on self pity antics but I’ve put it from my mind and am moving forward. And guess what? Another job, very similar to the one I just interviewed for was just posted. HUZZAH!! Not only that, I’m setting up a meeting with someone from the previous hiring committee to talk about feedback from my interview. Double HAZZAH! So good things are happening, even when things seem very bleak and full of self-defeat and drunken pity antics. Truly it’s not the end of the world that I didn’t get this position.
Now just for fun I’m going to paint a little picture for you of something that I found humorous today. I was driving to work, the 45 minute trip that I take everyday which is incredibly boring. But today there was some fun to be had in the form of the person driving in front of me. I think it was a “he” but I can’t be sure. He was driving something that looked like a 60’s boat, a Cadillac or some such car. His window was partially rolled down to accommodate his cancer stick which he kept flailing out the window at regular intervals. The best parts though were the large fuzzy dice in the rear view mirror and the fact that he was wearing some kind of hat with little ears on it.
It sort of reminded me more of Shrek or Tigger than a teddy bear because the little rounded ears were on the side of his head, not the top. The part that got me laughing was that he was rocking out to some kind of music and was bobbing his head and doing little spastic jerks that sent those little ears bopping. It seemed like it was probably some kind of rock music, maybe some killer base and drums that he was pretending to hit with his head, making those little ears dance. The incongruousness of this scene was just too much. It brightened my day immeasurably. Thank you cancer stick addicted, cool guy with hard rock rocking teddy bear ears! You made my day! It was like watching Tigger on drugs or imagining him smoking and rocking out in his boat of a car on his way to his job. Total awesomeness.
Tuesday commenced in just the right way.