My son almost got hit by a car tonight.

The word "almost" in the sentence should overshadow the part that says hit by a car. But it doesn't.

It was less than 2 seconds for him to run into the street. It was an eternity for me to get close enough to him.
He was holding my hand. He pulled down hard and fast, yelling tag you're it. I started screaming and running as my 2 year old darted between cars, into the middle of the street. He couldn't see the SUV, but then he turned around and the lights were in his eyes and he froze, the joy of the game still on his face. It was so dark and the lights were so bright and he was looking at me, confused but still smiling. The SUV wasn't stopping. It wasn't stopping. I reached him, I grabbed him, I pushed him as I threw myself towards the SUV hoping I could absorb any impact. I looked right into the drivers eyes. Unconsciously begging him to hit me. The SUV passed. Less than a foot. So very close. One more step and this would be a very different story for me. One less and it would have been a very different story for him. Shaking, unable to breathe with tears running down my face, I held onto that boy on the side of the road. I cried the whole way home. It keep replaying in my mind. I was paying attention, I wasn't distracted. I was holding his hand. It was so fast. And mommy felt so slow. Mommy felt so slow. And the SUV never stopped.
My baby is okay. His mommy is not.

I WANT to watch the entire VMA's, but I NEED to say that I cannot stand...

Kanye West.

That. was. a. bitch. move.

Beyonce was and is the shit... but her video wasn't the true issue. It was just a repeat of when he lost and how much buzz his obnoxious behavior got when he whined for losing before.

Whatever to stay relevant. Ahem... Amber Rose.

I needed that job. Hell. I wanted that job... Alas, they didn't want me.

Things suck. Seriously. Today won't be funny.
My personality is one that you either love or hate, simply because I am an honest and direct gal. I never stray from who I am, I never pretend to be anyone different. Okay... I lie... but fulfilling random french maid or tarzan/jane fantasies shouldn't count. and see... I was honest about that!
Job interviews are stressful. They are akin to first time blind dates. You look your best, cover your tattoos, rock a bun and pearls- and then you wing it. Sure, you can prepare and have great answers, but inevitably there will be a side eye question... one they lob at you and then watch you side eyed to see how you react and to look for flaws in your monologue... I ace these too because I have a great sense of humor. But this recent interview process has left me drained and confused... hallmarks of good sex... and boy did I get fucked.

I spent more than a month interviewing with this company. I did phone interviews, video conference interviews, in office interviews that lasted hours. At the end of every one, I walked away feeling good, and confident. BECAUSE... I had done everything they were asking for. So I was qualified and excited and ready to start. Server room heat set on hell and shorting your phone lines... no worries- I've done that. Ad-hoc projects with no tangible direction and a crazy high standard expected on completion? check! Really... for the first time in my life, I had an answer for everything. An example where needed... I sold the hell out of my ass because I was PERFECT for this job... Apparently someone decided I wasn't and their reason... Per my recruiter- they felt that my answers were too perfect and it seemed as I was answering with what they wanted to hear- not my own answer. I call bullshit. My recruiter called bullshit. Hell! Their recruiter called bullshit. But in the end it didn't matter. Someone decided a perfect fit would be too efficient and they opted to keep interviewing. For the record... I was all me, all the time.

I have a stellar resume. Tenure? Experience? Education? check, check, and check. This economy has made it very hard. The last time I was laid off, it was a bad economy but I was interviewing twice a week. It took about 4 months. This time? I am entering my 9th month of being unemployed. I can go 2 months without an interview. I have offered to be overqualified and underpaid. I decided to go back to school since I am sitting around, but then I figured out that after paying the bills I could pay, and then skipping a few that I couldn't, there wasn't any money for school. So here I sit. Perfect for the job but unemployed.

I am angry. I am sad. I am stressed to the absolute max. My credit is being ruined and all I can do and smile and nod. I feel worthless. I want so bad to be depressed or at least give in to the depression that is waiting for a crack in my strength... I would welcome the heavy sleep that my depression would bring. The weight loss too. But I have kids that need their mommy to be whole. So I shove it to the side and keep going and doing what I can. I feel like I am running in mud. I recognize that it could be worse. I have managed to keep food in my babies mouths. I have managed to keep a roof over their head. Our lights may get turned off soon if I don't think of something though. I grew up like this. I vowed I would never find myself unable to afford my kids... and I didn't have them until I was a position to provide for them. But here I am. Swimming in mud, applying for food stamps, and looking for things to do that don't require money or gas because I have neither. Investigating bugs with 98 cent store magnifying glasses, playing driveway hop scotch, duct taping holes in the pool as fast as they appear, and crying only after they are asleep. At least I am a perfect fit to them.