Please enter your place of employment

The really dumb thing about this whole “breakdown of my marriage because my ‘husband’ is a selfish, lying, cheating bastard” thing is that he dumped all this “I don’t love you. I don’t think I ever loved you. I love someone else now instead” thing on me OVER THE PHONE. While I was OUT OF TOWN. Visiting MY MOTHER. You know those losers who break up through text messaging? Yeah, apparently, he’s a member of that club. Only… it was a MARRIAGE… for 6 YEARS. What better way to do such a crappy thing than over the phone.


So, I got to go through all this while away from home… hundreds of miles away. It. Sucked.

After endless conversations, arguments and questions where teeny tiny bits of information trickled out at a ridiculously slow rate (I’m pretty sure I still don’t have the full story), I was so traumatized, so hurt, so angry and so “WHAT THE HELL PLANET AM I LIVING ON?!?!” I really didn’t want to go home. Because he was still there. How would that scene play out? “Hey honey! I’m home, you lying, cheating, good for nothing, jerk! Now that I’m home… GET OUT!!!”???

I mean… really?

So, needless to say… I stayed put. Oh, I took a weekend and moved the majority of my stuff out of our apartment, but I was technically staying and/or “living” at my mom’s. (I’m pretty sure I never thought I would be typing that at the age of 31. I am so freakin’ awesome.)

To throw a further wrench into this already horrible situation, I was and still am, unemployed. Now, to clarify, I’m not some weirdo living in her mom’s basement unable to find a job. I’m a teacher. The position I had last year changed drastically and I didn’t reapply for that position. So, I set out to find a new position. But the this whole cluster… you-know-what came up and I was forced to try to figure out where to look for jobs and how to look for jobs. Just what the hell is my permanent address anyway?! It really added yet another headache to the headache that had recently become my life.

SO… I was applying for jobs from a small town hundreds of miles away from the metropolitan area that I actually wanted the jobs in. After sending out a bazillion resumes (okay, not that many, but close) I finally got an interview. (It’s ridiculous how many school districts overlook you just because you only have 1 year of teaching experience under your belt. Horrible people.)

The thing was… I couldn’t find out anything about this place online. There was a website, but it was very poorly done and not even near completion. And when I went to find the place where the interview was to take place, I literally could not find it. Like… at all. Until I backtracked and decided to check out the abandoned church building I had seen a few miles back thinking there was NO WAY that this is where the school was.

BINGO. It was. I was pretty sure I needed to bring mace to the interview.

So… the interview did indeed take place in an abandoned, dilapidated church that had been sitting empty for the last three years. The parking lot had been over taken by weeds. All the land had been over taken by weeds. The building was completely dark and the front door was propped open by a giant chunk of cement. You know those dreams where you’re wandering through an abandoned building and you get that eerie feeling that someone’s going to jump out at you and hack you up with a hatchet? Yeah. That. That’s pretty much what I walked into.
However, thankfully, in a dark office, sat a receptionist with a traditional head scarf. She introduced me to my interviewers who consisted of a woman named Megan with a rather large bicep tattoo and big hair, and a casually dressed Middle Eastern dude name Ulli or Luli or Ukelele… something like that. (I’m seriously not making fun of his name… but I truly have no idea how to say it or even what it was.)
They were all very nice. Very casual. In the middle of the interview, the lights went out. Apparently, the lights were broken, so there was nothing we could do about it. Then a few minutes later, the last remaining light went out. It was on a motion censor, so they were able to get that one back on. So, we were in a dark office conducting an interview. It was rather absurd. Although, I did notice an old typewriter and Bobbsey Twins book set out as decoration in the office… which made me like them all the more.
When I asked the starting date of school, they said September 2nd. Teacher workshops begin August 18th. I had all I could do to keep from looking around, throwing up my hands and saying, “Seriously?” Apparently, they’re planning some type of “Trading Spaces” rennovation which will take place over 24 hours.
Overall, despite all the hoopla, the confusion and the stupidity of the situation, it was actually a really good experience. I wasn’t nervous. I knew how to answer the questions. And it was actually kind of fun cause I got to get all dressed up and sound all professional and shit.  So, no matter what happens, I have a good story to tell my kids. You know, from my 2nd marriage. At the age of 42. Did I mention they were adopted?
So… I suppose the bright side of this whole thing is… I’m gaining new coping strategies? What doesn’t kill me makes me stronger? Silver lining blah, blah, blah?

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