What mommies do after everyone else has gone to bed.
Things are about to get really quiet around here.
It’s June 12th, and we can’t avoid packing our apartment anymore. Our lease expires at the end of the month.
Teaching jobs are slowing down. The last one posted in our home state was June 3rd. There may be a new one coming up, but I’m feeling pessimistic.
So many applications filled out. Five calls for interviews. So many hours driving across two states. Not a single yes.
I’m done. Just … done.
So now we pack up everything to move into a storage unit so we can live with my husband’s parents.
They don’t have internet at their house, so I’ll be limited to what my phone can handle. I’ll be able to post occasionally, but since I’ll have to go other places to do so, it’ll probably be a rare thing until we move. Mark says it’ll only be for a short while, but again, I’m pessimistic. We’ll be lucky to both get minimum wage jobs in our hometown, and they won’t pay well enough for us to rent an apartment and pay off his $16,000 student loan. Besides. We only have one car. At least if we live at his folks’ then we can borrow one of their cars for work if need be. So, yeah. Unless something changes – which I’m willing to bet money that it won’t – it’ll be at least a year before I’m able to post regularly again.
If that bit above is all the negativity you can handle, you should leave now. I need to vent. It’s about to get real.
It’s taking all my strength not to send the following GIF in an email to all the school boards who have failed us:
He’s been looked over by schools who hired family members over him. He’s been said no to by schools who decided to hire someone with no teaching experience over someone with two years and a master’s degree. And I don’t know why some places didn’t hire him … I guess they’re just staffed by idiots. Those poor kids are in schools where idiots make decisions about their education. It’s truly a shame.
In my last post, I mentioned near the end about in our hometown rocked my faith pretty hard. Since then, he has filled out so many new applications that we no longer remember where he applied or what specific music job he applied for. Since then, he’s had four interviews. Consequently, he’s had four “no”s since then too. My faith is no longer rocked. It’s shattered. Gone. Poof. I’ve watched Facebook light up this spring with status after status about so-and-so getting his dream job this year (quite a few of which my husband had also applied for) and yet there is no such blessing on our end. Of all of my friends, our situation is the most dire. He has no job. They already did. And now they have the jobs they always wanted, and we still have nothing. We can’t even get the jobs they left behind.
My mother-in-law and soon-to-be roommate has already starting chirping, “You just have to have faith!” Eventually I am going to snap and reply, “You just have to shut up.” I had faith, and where has it gotten us? Absolutely nowhere. Faith got us two 60-year-old roommates whom we have to depend on to feed and shelter us, like children. Stupid, irresponsible children.
We widened our search to include surrounding states, but after Monday when three of those “no”s came on the same day, I said forget this and started looking globally. People don’t want us to live so far away, but it is better than the alternative. Besides, I know when we move in with the in-laws, he’s going to quit looking for a job. Why should he bother? His mommy and daddy are taking care of him, so he will become lazy and complacent. This last week that we’re here in our own place is our last chance.
I don’t really have a way to end this post, so here’s one last GIF that describes how I feel about everyone in school administration: