Being Rejected ad infinitium

 So, I just applied for a few more jobs. And also received a few more rejection letters. Those sting. With relationships, as far as I think I can remember, outwardly being told that you're not wanted hurts - but what I'm finding with this ridiculous job search is that the non-response is even more crappy. Being rejected 5 times a day every day for two weeks just sucks, ya know? 

The Dear John letter feels a bit more palatable these days. Most everyone is wanting to work remotely, right? Surely all of the writers and semi-creatives are home like me looking for work. Maybe it's just that I want a lot. Is working from home, making decent money, with an open schedule too much to ask? Oh, and it's also got to be something I'm passionate about, skilled in, and proficient at. Gosh. I wouldn't even hire myself under those circumstances. 

The idea that I need work is because I'm not really doing anything productive during the day. I am available for helping the kids if they need it, but they don't really. Elijah mostly just needs help staying on task. We're slowly digging deeper into debt while I'm slowly becoming an expert solitaire player. I do workout. I do work on myself. I meditate and stretch my body. But those things are more so becoming part of my nightly routine after the kids go to bed. I have a nice chunk of five hours or so that I could put toward building our family's survival quotient. 

The big fear is that I'll bust my ass to get a job making $200/week and then some part of the cares act will get passed and I'll just barely miss out on getting $700/week in unemployment benefits. 

Here's the deal, I do feel like there's a job out there for me. I just have to find it. It's like a game of hide & seek. It's hiding and I'm seeking. As of right now, there is no scent on the tail. There is no clue or strong desire to gone in one direction or the other. I naturally gravitate toward writing because it's what I "feel like I should be doing", but gosh, that's so intuitive and hard to nail down. I'm a speaker, a storyteller. I convey emotion through communication, but yet, the right role for me isn't coming to fruition. Try as I might, I'm not able to create my own role. 

So, I'll continue my search. For now, though, I'm here writing. It's boring. It's lamenting. But it's where I am. And honestly, I love the idea that no one is going to read what I'm putting here. I long for a safe space and this will have to be it.