I'm Back, Bitches

The astute and non-visually impaired of you might have noticed that I, um, blogged yesterday.

From August 5th to September 10th it was mighty quiet 'round these here parts. That was because I didn't have a job, and I felt like a sort of assmonkey sitting around blogging when I was supposed to be lurking around on Craigslist, searching for if not meaningful than at least gainful employment.

As luck would have it, I may have found both. I don't know yet-- I start on Monday. So... we'll see.

It's going to be kind of a different scene for me. Going from working with talented children to the mentally ill is a tad of a shift, but some of the same techniques and personality traits of mine may prove just as useful with my new, er, population. And, I mean-- how different could it really be, right? Children bite. Psych patients.... um.... bite.

Yeah....

Of all the jobs I have held since college, this may end up being the one for which I am the least qualified, and I've never really been totally qualified for any of the jobs I've held. But, oddly, that doesn't worry me. I supposed I'm used to being under-qualified. The woman interviewing me for this position referred to me as "overqualified," but then, she doesn't know me very well. Prospective employers know what they see on paper and, if you wear a tie, they get a little horny. Wear a sterling-silver tie-bar, and you can practically watch their trousers get soggy.

I suppose I'm also not too concerned because I know that this job is only a stop-gap on my way to securing a career in law enforcement. Once the economy turns around and police departments really kick their recruitment/hiring initiatives into high gear, I will be ready. I have been kicking ass and taking several names at the gym, and I can now successfully lift 83% of my bodyweight. Admittedly, that's only a couple of bags of dog-food, but it's still an accomplishment to me.

Mostly, I'm proud of the fact that I have secured employment at all. In this economy, it's no small feat. It's maybe even large-ish. The fact that there were three job offers (well, two-and-a-half if I'm completely honest) on the table shocked even me. I guess that's what happens when you aim low while wearing a sterling-silver tie-bar. The trousers of many an H.R. representative got moist in southeastern P.A. over the course of the last two weeks, I'm proud to say.

One of the things, of course, that lightens my spirits these days is the fact that, now that I have a job, I feel a bit more "right" about blogging again. Sure, it wasn't something that took up huge amounts of my time during the day, but it was an admitted distraction, and something I knew the world could do without.

(You all survived, didn't you? God, you're beautiful.)

It feels very, very good to be doing this again. Married as I was to stalking such inglorious sites as Craigslist, Careerbuilder, Monster, and whatever other awful sites, it feels a little weird to not be checking those sites out anymore on a near constant, eye-drying basis. Reading banal, non-descript postings for jobs I didn't want, but applied for anyway. Easily the most colorful job offer I got (oh, wait-- that's three-and-a-half!) was an erectile-dysfunction clinic that wanted to hire me to give IV infusions to flaccid patients.

"You'll be proud to witness men get their first erections in years," I was told, "right there in the office in front of you!"

Better than behind me, I thought.