Waiting Is Hard Work

Applying for a job is almost a job in itself.

I've tweaked my resume so many times I don't even know if it's any good because it all looks like gibberish to me now. The last two weeks have been me, in my spare time, spending every waking moment worrying about two jobs. One I've interviewed twice for, and am simply waiting to hear if they will choose me or someone else. The other I've applied for, but the deadline isn't closed yet.

I have prayed over this situation a million times. I'm still stressing.

I don't know why I'm stressing so much. I think some of it is that I put myself out there, and if they reject me, I'll feel personally about it. I'm just as nervous about a rejection as I am about a job offer. The job offer would significantly change my life.

Change it.

That's kind of scary right there.

A rejection would wound my ego. Not exactly life-changing, but a blow.

The not knowing is the worst. Waiting. Contemplating. I'm learning how much of a brooder, worrier I am. I called my mom today and she said I was overthinking.

Really?! How uncommon for me. *rolleyes*

I've literally been at a life stall for two weeks because of this silly job. My mind is racing a million miles a minute. I'm anxious. I'm on pins and needles. I hate it. I hate this about myself. My anxiety, my worries, my constantly turning mind. I wish I could set things aside more.

I haven't really gained weight, but I haven't lost. I thought I should mention that. I'm eating pretty good, but exercise has been minimal, and calorie tracking... sloppy.

But I'm still hanging in there. I want to hear from this job, and the other - and then I need to move on. I desperately need a change in my work. I'm stale, I'm bored, I'm lonely.