And I Don't Even LIKE Cats!

Hey, remember last summer when I graduated from the LLM program at UT, and was super depressed over my inability to find employment?

Yeah.  That was really stupid of me.

Don’t get me wrong.  I am very grateful to have a good job.  I don’t intend on leaving my job any time soon.  I know I’m fortunate.   I like the work and it pays well enough to make student loan payments and shop at Pottery Barn.

It’s just . . . that’s the problem.  Because I have a job that pays me well enough to afford Pottery Barn, I never have time to go to Pottery Barn.  It’s a wicked, dirty Catch-22.

Nobody warned me.  In fact, it was the opposite – get a job!  Be a contributing member of society!  Unemployment is for chumps!  My mother, especially, was VERY insistent that I find a job after graduating.  Actually, she was pretty insistent before I graduated.  I suspect having to live with her while I looked for a job was a contributing factor to such insistence.   Somebody could have given me a heads up that I was in for a seriously rude awakening.

I mean, jeez people – having a job is TEDIOUS, just on principle.   So many movies have come out that I’ve missed, and now I have to wait to watch when it’s available on Netflix or HBO.  I have to plan in advance to go to the grocery store – I can’t just hop out and pick up some milk whenever the whim hits me.  I’ll go on Thursday after work.   Working seriously cuts into my TV time – you wouldn’t believe how much stuff is stacked up in the DVR.  And just when the HELL am I supposed to go to Target?  I miss Target, you guys.  And get this – I’m expected to present myself as professional.  That means fixing my hair and doing my makeup ALL WEEK.  That is so many days.  And nobody said anything specifically on the subject . . . but I’m pretty sure sweatpants are frowned upon.  I miss the sweatpants almost as much as I miss Target.  Almost.  

Don't get me started on normal human tasks like cleaning and doing laundry.  I have the same argument with myself all the time.  On the weekdays, I get home at 7 and it's "I'm tired, I'll do it this weekend."  On the weekends, it's "I'm not wasting my weekend on that!  I'll do it after work!"  We didn’t get a month off for Christmas.  I was not able to schedule my hours on three days a week for half a day, like back in college.  I’m supposed to be there all week, which, like I said, is just so many days.  I’m left with two weekend days – which is not very many days – to cram in all the activities I used to leisurely spread out across five weekdays.  And I ask you – is there anything, one single thing, in this whole wide world, more depressing than a Sunday night?  I would submit that, in fact, there is not. 

Basically, what I’m getting at is, having a job has turned me into Garfield.  I hate Mondays.  My hair is falling out at an alarming rate.  I really, really want a nap.  I would sincerely love to ship some people off to Abu Dhabi, or at least kick them off the dining room table.  And for the love of all that is good and holy in this world, will somebody PLEASE make me a damn lasagna, because I have NO food in this apartment and there isn’t a grocery store visit on the schedule any time soon.

Sarcasmo