Honest self evaluation places my job search effort at about 13% at this point, a year into my mid-life “sabbatical.” I do, however, put 100% effort into reading about getting jobs. I am really good at that. The last self-help article I read, in the St. Louis Post Dispatch, was about “job shaping,” deciding what you do well, and what you enjoy, and finding a way to make that your career. Here is my list:
Reading. Anything and everything. Fiction, non-fiction, newspapers, magazines, toothpaste tubes, I don’t discriminate. I am a pretty good reader!
Writing. My blog is rather existential at this point, a practical yet philosophical exercise of the proverbial tree falling in the forest, but it keeps me entertained.
Jigsaw puzzles. The more pieces the better. Son 2 likes to come by, pick up random pieces and try to force them into spots where they don’t fit. After many such forays, understanding blossomed in his eyes. “Oh, I get it, it’s like your X box!” Exactly. 1500 pieces, two months, nailed it!
Travel. You name the place, I’ll get a travel book (see above) and go. Mountains, beaches, cities, countries, Cleveland, I’m in, and packed in a small carryon with everything I will need for weeks on end.
Watching cooking shows. No, I don’t like to cook. Son 1 once suggested I should do a cooking blog for non-cooks. He recommended special posts including “just add a can of some kind of soup” “breakfast is dinner yet again” and, of course, the recipe for my famous leaning birthday cake.
Dining out, which goes really well with the not liking to cook. I love restaurants, trying new foods, returning to old favorites. I have concluded that every restaurant can be accurately judged solely by bathrooms and salads. Try it.
Adopting rescue dogs. Thanks to the one pure-bred dog I have had in my life, Sammie the “amazing” black lab, I have sworn off good looking, pedigreed pups. I loved her unconditionally, but she just never got the retriever memo. She hated other dogs, definitely sank when she should swim, and was about as bright as a fork. I finally decided maybe dogs are like people, sometimes “blue blood” lines and pretty exteriors mask troubling internal flaws. Anyway, I am now a rescue dog person. First there was my darling Charlie, love of my life for eleven short years. He was a sort of beagle looking mutt with ears largely, drastically out of proportion to his body, and an adorable etch-a-sketch patch of white on his neck that could be made into a Harry Potterish lightning bolt, or a big “C” for Charlie, or any sort of squiggle of my choosing. Now there is Lily, a new love of my life. Okay, the fact she looks a lot like Charlie got her paw in the door, but she is her own doggie self and has earned her way deep into my heart. Newest is Otis, a long-legged, goofy lab-hound sort of thing. Hubs loves him, I am not there yet, but he is working on me. Oh, God, is he working on me.
Estes Park, Colorado. Perhaps my happiest happy place. How obsessed am I? If you know Rocky Mountain National Park, you know where my last two dogs’ names originated.
Movies. I love going to movie theaters, eating mounds of popcorn and drinking giant sodas. I like arty films, and rom com, period pieces, adventure, just about anything without aliens or superheroes. I almost always disagree with the critics. Grand Budapest Hotel? What the????
Being a snarky contrarian. I don’t follow trends, do the crowd thing or really enjoy people en masse.
Job suggestions, anyone?