So, after all that hoopla over the weekend, I have to tell you. I didn't get that research job I so badly wanted. I got a perfunctory form email on Friday at 6 p.m. telling me so. I was so disappointed. But I also know that I had a fantastic interview, and that I wouldn't have changed any of my answers, so I chalk it up to not fitting their profile for some reason. I cried. I did. I cried. And I called Dog Girl and asked if I could come over for a little bit. And of course she said yes. I told her I didn't want to hear all the pat responses, "Something better is out there for you." or "It just wasn't the right one if you didn't get it." because I KNOW all that stuff. I do. But I was disappointed and I had to cry for a little bit. Then I promptly got over myself. But what that experience did, was prove to me just how much I need to find a different job. I had been so looking forward to actually using my brain. I don't like getting up in the morning wondering how I'm going to waste 8 1/2 hours of my day before I can go do something halfway stimulating. That's no way to live.
This job was a God send when I got it. I know that. The Good Doctor gave me a chance when I was so very, very fragile that I could hardly manage to answer the phone without shaking. It was perfect. And I've grown and matured and he's watched me do it and when my co-worker left, he knew I was ready to run the whole office by myself. And I was. I've been doing it for exactly a year now. But it's not enough. I'm talented in so many ways and it's being wasted right now and that makes me sad. And tired, too. I have every faith that the right job is out there. I really do. But the waiting is getting very tiresome.
So in the meantime, I'll just focus on running. Because that's something I CAN control.