Jobs are like men. I get the wrong ones.

I’m only here because I promised myself I would post every day. And that means I have to log on.

What? Is that not what you wanted to hear? Sorry, sorry.

I’m starting a new job tomorrow – I mean *glances at invisible watch* today. It’s minimum wage, barely any hours, but will be meaningful. I hope. You know how some women attract the wrong kind of man? The kind that doesn’t care about her, gives her little or nothing to work with, and makes her feel mediocre? I attract those kinds of jobs. Oh, and those men, too. Same for both.

Naturally, I’m terrified. I can already picture that inevitable night when I come home after a long day, emotionally and mentally exhausted from the extent of my effort, and promptly collapse. Jobs depress me.

Not because I’m lazy! In fact, I like to think I’m very active when the winds of mental health blow the right direction. Jobs depress me because they lack care. “It’s not personal, it’s business!” Unfortunately for me, I take everything personally. Maybe because I am, in all respects, a person?

But – let’s be optimistic! Perhaps this suitor for my part-time hand will be a good egg. Fun, generous, genuine… Willing to consider me for a full-time position or a promotion to something that matters?

We shall see.

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