A New Week Looks a Lot Like the Previous One

So the last time I posted, I mentioned the job interview. As it turns out, I got through to the final round of interviews on Thursday. Then I waited all day Friday, as they told me they would call me on Friday either way. Finally at 5:15, the call came....and....I didn't get the job. Now, as they had waited until the middle of happy hour to call me, I had figured out on my own that the job was not going to be falling to me. And that's okay; they have to hire the person they feel is best qualified and the best fit for their school. It was nice to be in the pool of finalists. Not sure where I came up short and sent an email thanking the assistant principal for the opportunity and asking for some advice for the next time I get an interview. Still waiting for the (probably not coming) response to that.

This is my second round of unemployment in the past three years. The first one came because my brain quit working and I ended up on disability. I can own that one. This one, however, is different. The first time I was unable to function and spent my days in anguish and despair from issues that were way beyond the unemployment. This time, I am beginning to feel anger. The first couple of weeks I was stunned and sad and walked around in a daze. But after this interview experience, the sadness turned to genuine anger. For almost twenty years I bounced around doing a job I hated until it finally consumed me. I longed to be out of it and dreamed of being a teacher. My friend Matt told me on Saturday that I had gone from a job that I hated on the best days to one I loved on the worst days. And now, it has been taken away for reasons that they assure me have nothing to do with my performance. To get to the final round of interviews and not get the job felt like being teased with a prize and then having it ripped back from my reach. And I HATE it! I assume I can find a job. What I can't assume is that it will be a teaching job, nor that I will love it like I do teaching. That leaves me feeling empty and enraged.

So, life goes on. It is not the worst life a guy could ask for. But it will never be the same. And I can't say that I am happy about it.

(Sorry this is kind of a mess. I thought I had it all planned out but once I started writing it down, things seemed to jumble themselves.)