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So last Monday, three days after the bar, I started looking for a job. Enthused, I sent out over 40 resume’s a day last week. What did I get?  7 rejection letters and some random asshole asking me on a date. Can a sister catch a break?

I know, I know the economy sucks. The great thing was that I had school to hide behind. Yah, it looks like shit out there but I’m protected by my academia bubble…until now. Granted, I have only been searching for a job for eight days, but it is beyond discouraging. Lets consider, I graduated at the top of my class in high school. In college, I could count the number of B’s I received on one hand. I graduated law school at the age of 25 with three amazing summer externships under my belt. What’s my point?

I just applied at subway.

What’s wrong with this picture? I’m not knocking the awesomeness that is the six inch meatball sub (Moses on the mountain its amazing), but I didn’t go to law school to work at Subway. If I didn’t have any loans to pay off, then this wouldn’t be an issue. However, as I am considering tucking Dot in a nap-sack and hiding from Sallie Mae for fear of default, the problem is real.

Another example of my misery- I have the best friends in the world. In college I was blessed enough to meet and befriend seven of the most amazing women I have ever met. Since that time, we have all remained extremely close. Visiting those girls is often the highlight of my month, quarter or year. As we are “that age” several of us (them) are getting married. Cut to the point- I just had to tell one of my best friends that I can’t attend her bachelorette party because I can’t afford it. Actually, that’s an understatement… Whenever I have enough money to buy groceries or put half a tank of gas in my car I think tiny baby Jesus…Amen.

No job = no social gatherings = no friends, right? My boyfriend woke me up in the middle of the night last week because I was shouting, “BUT I DON’T WANT TO BECOME THE CAT LADY. I CAN’T AFFORD FANCY FEAST!.”

Well shit.

There has to be good in all of this right? Actually, there is. When you live on a budget that involves searching under your couch cushions for gas money, you tend to become on savvy B. Exhibit A: yesterday- said no no bachelorette party day- I was feeling pretty down. Andrew’s solution? “Lets go fry some shit.” And fry we did. Oil, flour, okra, and chicken  totaling $7.50 (plus probably ¼ of a bottle of vodka) = a damn good time. “What else can we fry? Lets fry a cherry! Didn’t work. What  about beer? ?!?!!? We could fry DOT! Drunky-skunky. Needless to say, we had a blast.

So here is my point: 1) I should have a DAMN job because I am SERIOUSLY qualified, 2) but I don’t, 3) therefore I will look as much as I can and make every efforts to find employment even if it involves asking toasted or regular, and finally 4) I will continue to enjoy daily happy hour and pray I don’t throw my dog into the frying pan.

Until next time,