It is now time to contemplate getting a grown up job. (Ok, a part-time sort of grown up job).  Now, I suck at being a grown up. I wrote about it.  My Teenager article in Good Housekeeping  It was not a popular article. My great freelance writing thing is not getting me far.

So, I have a law degree which has been gathering dust for over ten years.  (Or the dog ate it).  I have a linked in profile that no one looks at.  I have a career counselor.  I am armed with the new knowledge that I’m an ENFG.  Myers-Briggs apparently rules people’s lives.  Other tests tell me that I’m “artistic.” I’d love to be a marketing director or a (M)ad Man, but I think you have to intern first.

So, what to do.  Is it rude to start stockpiling linkedin contacts?  My profile looks a bit schizophrenic.

My theme has been “rebuilding my life through widowhood.”   I’ve redecorated.  My Woman’s Day Article on Redecorating (sort of)  I’ve dated.  Excessively and masochistically.  My Xojane Article on Being an Online Dating Addict  I’ve also yoga-ed, tried performance driving,  and attempted to make friends and find love as an adult (it gets harder when you get older).

My final frontier: becoming a semi-employed grown up.  Maybe. I did my own taxes this year.  I’m trying to add “share” and analytic stuff to this blog.  I don’t understand SEO, but I have a messed up sense of humor.

But seriously, I’d hoped to use this blog as a place to chat about loss and loneliness.  Or really fucked up dating.  Tune in next week when I discuss my anxiety disorder.  And I have a dear friend who keeps asking me to write about gratitude.  Then again, she thinks I should forgive the dickwads I bitched about from my online dating days. My Huffington Post Article on Men to Avoid

Not gonna happen.

So, I’m gonna try to resurrect this thing. We’ll talk about my career search or else juicy details from my trip to Mexico a few weeks ago.  Or else this blog will die in a fit of pique!

Chat soon,

Love, Debbie