I just called to follow up on a job I applied for last month and they have already offered it to someone. Yesterday.
It was perfect. A postdoc teaching general science courses at a small Catholic college in South. I worked hard on the application. I sent them sample course outlines. I went down there in my suit and walked around looking for the professor in charge of the search committee until my feet started bleeding from my ugly professional shoes. I called three times and left messages to follow-up.
It wasn't %#@$ing good enough.
I really really don't enjoy staying home full time. I suck at it. And after every fight I had with Charlie about potty training (or really, recently, everything. EVERYTHING requires negotiation and cajoling) or Wesley about taking a nap, during every soul-crushing minute spent counting to ten after stepping on a Lego or Cheerio or puddle of spitup I was thinking "maybe this job will work out. Maybe we can go back to the way things were when I was working and EVERYBODY WAS HAPPY."
Not just me. Everyone was happier when I was working. Like I said: I SUCK at this. I thought that if I stayed home with them that all the time we spent together would be just as happy as the two weekdays plus afternoons that we spent together when I was working. Who wouldn't want to do that? But I was WRONG.
But I better get used to it because now I have no other choice.
Better go start the freaking laundry because it's my job.