I love coupons. Yes, I am totally one of those women you see lugging around a humongous binder and tying up the checkout lane. Don't like it? Tough. When I can save $200-$250 on a shopping trip, and you're paying full price, I don't mind making you jealous. I mean, what is jealousy other than counting other people's blessings instead of your own?
Now, I'm not one of those psychos you see on TLC who takes 500 PowerBars when I've never tried them and don't know what to do with them, just because they're free. That's just dumb, if you ask me, unless you plan on donating them to a school sports team or a food bank. I'm all about donating to people in need, because the good Lord knows I have been there. I am not ashamed to admit that I have been to the local food bank when my family didn't have food but my parents were too proud to ask for help. I have accepted food from generous friends who got wind that I had been living on croutons for two days. I don't go looking for a free handout, but I'm not too proud to accept help.
I digress...I love my coupons, and I love earning money any (legitimate) way I can. Two years of unemployment have had me trying to earn money via babysitting, selling cosmetics, taking surveys, clicking links, and any other means I can think of.
So here are some of the means I have found to earn a little cash in my time spent unemployed. Feel free to use any of them. They're all legit (most of them I found via other couponing or money saving ladies).
InboxDollars:
This website has various things you can do to earn money, such as clicking on a link in an e-mail (it's SAFE), taking surveys, using coupons, completing research tasks, watching videos, etc. It's not much, but if you open a couple of e-mails a week, do a couple of surveys, and watch some videos, you can find yourself with a little pocket change for a tank of gas, or extra money for groceries.
Go Here
MyPoints:
Pretty much the same concept as InboxDollars. Lots of ways to earn money.
Visit Here
SurveySpot:
This company actually has a pretty good payout for taking surveys. I earned $10.00 (the minimum threshold at which you can redeem your points) fairly quickly from them just for taking a few surveys a week.
Check them out
Superpoints Network:
A typical website where you get points for menial tasks. My favorite thing is the SuperLucky Button.
Go Here
or Here...
or Here!
I hope some of these websites can help you put a little extra money in your pocket.
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Letter Nine: Glad That It's Over
I used to be someone who LOVED the holidays. I got excited, looked forward to all the traditions, and enjoyed the warm fuzziness that generally accompanies Thanksgiving and Christmas (I've never been much of a New Years person; I'm perfectly happy to stay in with my family watching a movie/television and chowing down on noms). The last few years have put a drag on the holidays for me, however, and I absolutely dreaded them this year. I just wanted to get them over and done with.
2009 was the first year we had to go through the holidays after my grandmother's death, and it was completely depressing, as absolutely NOTHING was the same. It was also just weeks after I lost my job. Last year my mom nearly died in November, and didn't know who I was half of the time. Then, she pulled a little stunt that put her back in the hospital for Christmas and she barely knew who anyone was that time, either. Did I mention my dad was in the hospital as well? I swear, I aged about 25 years between January and December of 2010.
This year, I spent my Thanksgiving and Christmas with a sense of foreboding, waiting for the other shoe to drop and something to go majorly (not a word, I know) wrong. Nothing went too wrong, other than we had no money whatsoever, so I am able to breathe a sigh of relief and be thankful that it's over and done with. I'm completely exhausted, and looking forward to going back to my job next week.
Oh yes, my job: It is full of "teh awesome." I love that I get to work with kids again. I don't love that I have to be up at 4:30 a.m., and I'm not officially done until after 6:00 p.m., so most nights I crash as soon as I get home. But the sense of accomplishment every day, the sense that I'm contributing to society once again, and the fact I'm not sitting at home all day makes life so much better. More to come on that front.
Thursday, December 1, 2011
A Short Note from the Pessimist
Since my last post was rather negative, I thought I would add a little cheer by saying: I GOT THE JOB! I am officially the Site Director for an extended learning program at one of the local public schools. I'm incredibly happy about this! You should be too.
Letter Eight: Girls Get Put in the "Friend Zone" Too
Okay, so I'm sure most people have heard men complain about that awful no-man's-land known as the "Friend Zone;" what was a promising relationship (or even the promise of a romp in the sack) somehow at some point in time got off track, and the girl in question has put a guy in a platonic category, dooming him forever to "lunch dates" and having to listen to her stories of other men. It is a loathsome circumstance for all who have experienced it.
But here's the thing: Women get put in the "Friend Zone" too. Some females just seem to get stuck in that non-romantic, non-sexual category that is akin to a sister. And it is no less loathsome to women as it is to men. Why am I blogging about this? Well, it seems my dearest of readers, that I have once again (for the umpteenth time) been stuck in the limbo of "Friend Zone" territory.
Those close to me know that I was with the same guy from 2003 until 2010, and I was engaged. I have moved on and started dating again (the perils of dating again after most of my adolescence was spent with one man could fill up pages and pages of blog posts). Most recently I dated a guy from NY who moved here in August. This guy is gawjus (sound it out). I mean, I couldn't believe my luck when this guy asked me out, because I personally think I have few redeeming qualities in the looks department. After a few amusing incidents where we weren't able to go out, we finally managed dinner and a movie. And the steamiest make out session I've ever had as an adult. On our second date, I made a big mistake, something so totally uncharacteristic of me, it had me scratching my head and wondering if I had regressed to a teenager (I'm sure if you think about it, you can guess what that mistake was). And immediately afterwards, I knew something was wrong. Apparently he forgot to disclose that he had just gotten out of a relationship at the end of July (which is why he moved here) and I was the first person he had dated since then.
I should have listened to all of those sirens and alarms going off in my head, as earlier this year, I dated a guy who had just gotten divorced not long before (he forgot to mention to me how recently-divorced he was), and after two months of dating, he decided he wasn't ready. I do not like being the rebound girl. It kind of pisses me off, actually.
Well, being the intelligent being that I am, I decided to ignore the warning bells, and even though he told me not to fall for him, guess what I did? That's right, I fell head over heels for the sucker. And then I proceeded to royally screw things up. Let's just say the word "crazy" was used and he told me to never contact him again.
You'd think that would be the end of this little tale, but I got a text from him Monday night. He wanted someone to talk to, and he said he remembered that I seemed to be a good person. He was having some drama with his best friend. We ended up talking for hours, and then he said he had nowhere to stay. Being the big softy I am, I offered to let him crash on the couch. Well, he has now crashed on my couch two different nights, and has been talking to me ever since. The only problem: I'm now firmly in the friend zone.
Do you know how hard it is to watch someone you're so attracted to sleep on your couch? *sigh* I guess us women can be pretty stupid when we want to be.
But here's the thing: Women get put in the "Friend Zone" too. Some females just seem to get stuck in that non-romantic, non-sexual category that is akin to a sister. And it is no less loathsome to women as it is to men. Why am I blogging about this? Well, it seems my dearest of readers, that I have once again (for the umpteenth time) been stuck in the limbo of "Friend Zone" territory.
Those close to me know that I was with the same guy from 2003 until 2010, and I was engaged. I have moved on and started dating again (the perils of dating again after most of my adolescence was spent with one man could fill up pages and pages of blog posts). Most recently I dated a guy from NY who moved here in August. This guy is gawjus (sound it out). I mean, I couldn't believe my luck when this guy asked me out, because I personally think I have few redeeming qualities in the looks department. After a few amusing incidents where we weren't able to go out, we finally managed dinner and a movie. And the steamiest make out session I've ever had as an adult. On our second date, I made a big mistake, something so totally uncharacteristic of me, it had me scratching my head and wondering if I had regressed to a teenager (I'm sure if you think about it, you can guess what that mistake was). And immediately afterwards, I knew something was wrong. Apparently he forgot to disclose that he had just gotten out of a relationship at the end of July (which is why he moved here) and I was the first person he had dated since then.
I should have listened to all of those sirens and alarms going off in my head, as earlier this year, I dated a guy who had just gotten divorced not long before (he forgot to mention to me how recently-divorced he was), and after two months of dating, he decided he wasn't ready. I do not like being the rebound girl. It kind of pisses me off, actually.
Well, being the intelligent being that I am, I decided to ignore the warning bells, and even though he told me not to fall for him, guess what I did? That's right, I fell head over heels for the sucker. And then I proceeded to royally screw things up. Let's just say the word "crazy" was used and he told me to never contact him again.
You'd think that would be the end of this little tale, but I got a text from him Monday night. He wanted someone to talk to, and he said he remembered that I seemed to be a good person. He was having some drama with his best friend. We ended up talking for hours, and then he said he had nowhere to stay. Being the big softy I am, I offered to let him crash on the couch. Well, he has now crashed on my couch two different nights, and has been talking to me ever since. The only problem: I'm now firmly in the friend zone.
Do you know how hard it is to watch someone you're so attracted to sleep on your couch? *sigh* I guess us women can be pretty stupid when we want to be.
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Letter Seven: MIA
I know, I know. I've been severely lacking in the blog department. But I have a REALLY good excuse. No, really, it is.
The last few months we've been trying to finalize the sale of our old house to my dad's brother. That was a mistake in and of itself, but honestly, the problems in my dad's family could fill up a blog of their own, so we'll just leave it at that. We finally got all of the paperwork done, money changed hands, and things were pretty good financially for a few weeks. My uncle was pushing for us to get everything moved out, even though my father is a kidney transplant patient and my mom is handicapped, and we couldn't find anyone to help us move.
Well, we finally got everything out of the house itself, the only problem is it's all sitting in the garage, one of those PODS units, and a horse trailer (yes, a horse trailer) in our backyard. I feel like I'm living on an episode of Hoarders. We are ever-so-slowly moving things out of the house, so the cluttered, claustrophobic feeling is receding a bit, but the outside is still a mess. I walked out in the yard one afternoon and literally ducked and ran to my car so people wouldn't associate me with the hoarder house. Now I'm waiting on some help to get the living room and bedroom furniture out (we live in my grandma's house; everything here is hers, and even though she died two years ago, we've been living in limbo) and OUR furniture moved in so I can start decorating for Christmas.
So no, dear readers (do I even HAVE any readers?), I have not deserted you. I've simply been ridiculously busy.
Oh, and I had a promising job interview two weeks ago, and should know by this Monday or Tuesday if I got the job. Fingers crossed. I need a freaking paycheck like yesterday.
The last few months we've been trying to finalize the sale of our old house to my dad's brother. That was a mistake in and of itself, but honestly, the problems in my dad's family could fill up a blog of their own, so we'll just leave it at that. We finally got all of the paperwork done, money changed hands, and things were pretty good financially for a few weeks. My uncle was pushing for us to get everything moved out, even though my father is a kidney transplant patient and my mom is handicapped, and we couldn't find anyone to help us move.
Well, we finally got everything out of the house itself, the only problem is it's all sitting in the garage, one of those PODS units, and a horse trailer (yes, a horse trailer) in our backyard. I feel like I'm living on an episode of Hoarders. We are ever-so-slowly moving things out of the house, so the cluttered, claustrophobic feeling is receding a bit, but the outside is still a mess. I walked out in the yard one afternoon and literally ducked and ran to my car so people wouldn't associate me with the hoarder house. Now I'm waiting on some help to get the living room and bedroom furniture out (we live in my grandma's house; everything here is hers, and even though she died two years ago, we've been living in limbo) and OUR furniture moved in so I can start decorating for Christmas.
So no, dear readers (do I even HAVE any readers?), I have not deserted you. I've simply been ridiculously busy.
Oh, and I had a promising job interview two weeks ago, and should know by this Monday or Tuesday if I got the job. Fingers crossed. I need a freaking paycheck like yesterday.
Monday, October 10, 2011
Letter Six: Random Questions
This is probably an old meme, but my blog is new, so these questions are new. Yeah, we'll go with that.
1. How old do you look? I look my age, I guess, even though I feel about 95.
2. Where do you live? In the ghetto. Or so it's fast becoming. No, seriously, I strongly suspect the girl across the street is dealing drugs, and I know my old neighbors were potheads.
3. Are you waiting for something? A life? No, um, maybe the perfect job to land at my feet. Or my perfect man to show up at the door. You don't have to tell me I'll be waiting a long time. I'm already aware that I'm delusional.
4. What’s one pet peeve of yours that is not common? When people say, "Peed my pants" or some similar phrase. There is a preposition missing from that sentence, and it drives me insane.
5. Do you want/have kids? I want children so badly that it kills me a little on the inside every time I find out yet another of my friends is pregnant. Petty and jealous, who, me?
6. Have you ever thought about converting your religion? Nope. I know what I believe and why I believe it. Besides, I don't adhere to a "religion" so much as a "faith."
7. Last shocking news you heard? There isn't much that shocks me these days. My cousin told me she is pregnant, but it wasn't shocking, necessarily.
8. What was the last thing you drank? Mtn. Dew, my drug of choice.
9. Who do you most look like in your family? My father, unfortunately.
10. If you could have something right now, anything, what would it be? A good job.
11. Where does most of your family live? Virginia or North Carolina.
12. Where did you grow up? In the same house in Virginia. Now I live in my grandma's old house, but besides college, it's the only other permanent residence I've held.
13. Where do you want to go on vacation? Panajachel, Guatemala. I miss it so much that my heart literally aches.
14. Have you ever had a panic attack? I have them quite frequently, actually. That's what the magical pill, Xanax, is for.
15. What can’t you wait for? Honestly...Nothing. Children, maybe?
16. When’s the last time you told someone you loved him or her and meant it? I told my ex I loved him the last time I talked to him, but we both still say that, as it's still true.
17. Have your parents ever smoked pot? Yes. I, on the other hand, have not. Swearsies.
18. Want someone back in your life? I have my weak moments where I miss my ex, but then I come to my senses and remember why it didn't work out. There are one or two ex-friends that I miss, but I am too stubborn to be the one to extend the invitation back into my life.
19. What do you order at the bar? Some form of margarita, 99% of the time. Occasionally some other sort of mixed drink.
20. When was the last time you cried really, really hard? Last week. There's a lot of crying in my house.
21. Ever licked someone’s cheek? Yeah, my ex, but only because I knew where his cheek had been. lol
22. What is your favorite thing to eat with peanut butter? Jelly...?
23. Where were you on July 4th, 2011? I think I was at home the whole time.
24. What are your nicknames? Lucy, Lucy Belle, Lula Belle, La La.
25. If you could go back in time, how far back would you go? This question is too hard to answer, as there are too many times in history I would like to witness for myself. I'd also like to go back to being four or five; life was pretty swell then.
1. How old do you look? I look my age, I guess, even though I feel about 95.
2. Where do you live? In the ghetto. Or so it's fast becoming. No, seriously, I strongly suspect the girl across the street is dealing drugs, and I know my old neighbors were potheads.
3. Are you waiting for something? A life? No, um, maybe the perfect job to land at my feet. Or my perfect man to show up at the door. You don't have to tell me I'll be waiting a long time. I'm already aware that I'm delusional.
4. What’s one pet peeve of yours that is not common? When people say, "Peed my pants" or some similar phrase. There is a preposition missing from that sentence, and it drives me insane.
5. Do you want/have kids? I want children so badly that it kills me a little on the inside every time I find out yet another of my friends is pregnant. Petty and jealous, who, me?
6. Have you ever thought about converting your religion? Nope. I know what I believe and why I believe it. Besides, I don't adhere to a "religion" so much as a "faith."
7. Last shocking news you heard? There isn't much that shocks me these days. My cousin told me she is pregnant, but it wasn't shocking, necessarily.
8. What was the last thing you drank? Mtn. Dew, my drug of choice.
9. Who do you most look like in your family? My father, unfortunately.
10. If you could have something right now, anything, what would it be? A good job.
11. Where does most of your family live? Virginia or North Carolina.
12. Where did you grow up? In the same house in Virginia. Now I live in my grandma's old house, but besides college, it's the only other permanent residence I've held.
13. Where do you want to go on vacation? Panajachel, Guatemala. I miss it so much that my heart literally aches.
14. Have you ever had a panic attack? I have them quite frequently, actually. That's what the magical pill, Xanax, is for.
15. What can’t you wait for? Honestly...Nothing. Children, maybe?
16. When’s the last time you told someone you loved him or her and meant it? I told my ex I loved him the last time I talked to him, but we both still say that, as it's still true.
17. Have your parents ever smoked pot? Yes. I, on the other hand, have not. Swearsies.
18. Want someone back in your life? I have my weak moments where I miss my ex, but then I come to my senses and remember why it didn't work out. There are one or two ex-friends that I miss, but I am too stubborn to be the one to extend the invitation back into my life.
19. What do you order at the bar? Some form of margarita, 99% of the time. Occasionally some other sort of mixed drink.
20. When was the last time you cried really, really hard? Last week. There's a lot of crying in my house.
21. Ever licked someone’s cheek? Yeah, my ex, but only because I knew where his cheek had been. lol
22. What is your favorite thing to eat with peanut butter? Jelly...?
23. Where were you on July 4th, 2011? I think I was at home the whole time.
24. What are your nicknames? Lucy, Lucy Belle, Lula Belle, La La.
25. If you could go back in time, how far back would you go? This question is too hard to answer, as there are too many times in history I would like to witness for myself. I'd also like to go back to being four or five; life was pretty swell then.
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Letter Five: Dear...
Dear VH1,
Can I just thank you for doing the 100 Greatest Songs of the 00's? It's bringing back some seriously great memories. Just thought you should know.
Lucy
Lucy
Normally I'd classify myself as 100% straight. But if gay marriage ever becomes legal, please marry me. And just sing to me. That would be better than sex. Thanks.
Lucy
Dear Pan Am,
Thank you for providing a vehicle for Christina Ricci to return to the screen, be it big or small. I have missed her.
Lucy
Dear October,
Thank you for being awesome. You're truly my favorite month.
Lucy
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Letter Four: A Crazy Life
No, I didn't run away or forget this blog. I've been without the internet for quite some time. Then, mysteriously, the cable company turned it back on (no complaints here). So I decided to take the time to update my layout and write a quick blog.
It's fall! I LOVE FALL! It's my favorite time of year...The air is cooling down, although it doesn't really get nice here until about the first or second week of October. I love the cool, crisp morning and night air, the magical color changes of the leaves, and the nearing of Halloween, one of my favorite "holidays". I mean, how many times a year do you get to be someone else for a night? Unless you're a spy, or you have multiple personality disorder, but for the rest of us it's one night. I'm also a horror movie fanatic, so what better time to cuddle up and watch a scary movie than the "scariest" time of year.
Growing up, fall was also a special time of year for me. My dad would procure hay bales and cornstalks, and my mom (or my school) would take me to the pumpkin patch to pick out a nice pumpkin, and then we would make a cute harvest scene in our yard with the haybales, corn, pumpkin(s) and a scarecrow. This time of year was also special because it meant that my father, a farmer, would soon have some time off after he finished picking peanuts, and he *might* take my mom and I to the mountains for a weekend to enjoy the foliage and a picnic along the Skyline Drive/Blueridge Parkway.
Those were the days, eh?
It's fall! I LOVE FALL! It's my favorite time of year...The air is cooling down, although it doesn't really get nice here until about the first or second week of October. I love the cool, crisp morning and night air, the magical color changes of the leaves, and the nearing of Halloween, one of my favorite "holidays". I mean, how many times a year do you get to be someone else for a night? Unless you're a spy, or you have multiple personality disorder, but for the rest of us it's one night. I'm also a horror movie fanatic, so what better time to cuddle up and watch a scary movie than the "scariest" time of year.
Growing up, fall was also a special time of year for me. My dad would procure hay bales and cornstalks, and my mom (or my school) would take me to the pumpkin patch to pick out a nice pumpkin, and then we would make a cute harvest scene in our yard with the haybales, corn, pumpkin(s) and a scarecrow. This time of year was also special because it meant that my father, a farmer, would soon have some time off after he finished picking peanuts, and he *might* take my mom and I to the mountains for a weekend to enjoy the foliage and a picnic along the Skyline Drive/Blueridge Parkway.
Those were the days, eh?
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Letter Three: Lessons in Sarcasm
Dear Lady Gaga,
I wish you would understand that making your videos so absurd that people scratch their heads and go, "WTF?" does not make you an 'artiste', it just makes you look stupid. I used to love you and your music. Now I just shake my head and change the station or channel. That is all.
Love,
Lucy the Pessimist
Dear Verizon,
When I have to return my phone because there is a manufacturer or software glitch, I would greatly appreciate it if you would give me a NEW PHONE! Otherwise, I end up with a refurbished piece of crap like this one, which has a touch screen that, get this: DOESN'T RESPOND TO MY TOUCH! I will be returning this one, too. That is all.
Sincerely,
Lucy the Pessimist
Dear Stalker,
I'm not your baby girl and I don't like you. If you can't figure that out, that's your problem. That is all.
Sincerely,
The Pissed Off Pessimist
Dear Kate Gosselin,
If you don't want your family photographed, don't have a television show that is about...YOUR FAMILY. Oh, and don't take them to major tourist attractions with camera crew in tow, as it just draws attention. That is all.
Sincerely,
Lucy the Pessimist
I wish you would understand that making your videos so absurd that people scratch their heads and go, "WTF?" does not make you an 'artiste', it just makes you look stupid. I used to love you and your music. Now I just shake my head and change the station or channel. That is all.
Love,
Lucy the Pessimist
Dear Verizon,
When I have to return my phone because there is a manufacturer or software glitch, I would greatly appreciate it if you would give me a NEW PHONE! Otherwise, I end up with a refurbished piece of crap like this one, which has a touch screen that, get this: DOESN'T RESPOND TO MY TOUCH! I will be returning this one, too. That is all.
Sincerely,
Lucy the Pessimist
Dear Stalker,
I'm not your baby girl and I don't like you. If you can't figure that out, that's your problem. That is all.
Sincerely,
The Pissed Off Pessimist
Dear Kate Gosselin,
If you don't want your family photographed, don't have a television show that is about...YOUR FAMILY. Oh, and don't take them to major tourist attractions with camera crew in tow, as it just draws attention. That is all.
Sincerely,
Lucy the Pessimist
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Letter Two: The Pessimist Also Writes
I've always loved to write. Well, let me rephrase that: I have always loved to read, which indirectly led to my love of writing. My mom has always been an avid reader, and I make an effort once in a while to thank her for sharing her love of books with me. I was an early reader, and on a 5th grade level by the time I was in 2nd grade. One of the few things my dad ever did with me as a child for "father-daughter time" (though he has never really enjoyed reading as a hobby) was to read me stories at bedtime, particularly from a beautifully illustrated book of Bible stories. You will rarely find me without a book or my Kindle, because I feel lost without them.
In 4th grade, I was required to write a creative story for a national competition. I received second place, and cemented my love of creative writing. I looked forward to the competition every year after that. It was my dream to be the next Danielle Steel or Nora Roberts (or maybe Charlaine Harris or Laurell K. Hamilton, since I’m not really a Danielle Steel fan). Like all artists of one form or another, ideas for short stories would float around in my head until I finally put them down on paper. For this reason, I decided I wanted to be a writer and pursue a degree in English and Communications with a concentration in Creative Writing. What could be more perfect for someone who is obsessed with spelling and grammar?
Two semesters of college English and one horrible, bitter professor from Barbados, and I decided English was not the way for me to go. I didn’t want to be bitter and angry by the time I was 30, like the professor. I thought about it, and recalled that the one job I truly loved was the after school teacher’s aide position…So, despite my lifelong protests to the contrary (as my mother always said I should be a teacher), I switched my major to Elementary Education with specializations in English and Social Studies, and a second Spanish major. Then, when a Spanish specialization became available, I switched out the Social Studies (really, it’s mostly U.S. history, which is my least favorite) for that, and dropped the double major.
Later.
In 4th grade, I was required to write a creative story for a national competition. I received second place, and cemented my love of creative writing. I looked forward to the competition every year after that. It was my dream to be the next Danielle Steel or Nora Roberts (or maybe Charlaine Harris or Laurell K. Hamilton, since I’m not really a Danielle Steel fan). Like all artists of one form or another, ideas for short stories would float around in my head until I finally put them down on paper. For this reason, I decided I wanted to be a writer and pursue a degree in English and Communications with a concentration in Creative Writing. What could be more perfect for someone who is obsessed with spelling and grammar?
Two semesters of college English and one horrible, bitter professor from Barbados, and I decided English was not the way for me to go. I didn’t want to be bitter and angry by the time I was 30, like the professor. I thought about it, and recalled that the one job I truly loved was the after school teacher’s aide position…So, despite my lifelong protests to the contrary (as my mother always said I should be a teacher), I switched my major to Elementary Education with specializations in English and Social Studies, and a second Spanish major. Then, when a Spanish specialization became available, I switched out the Social Studies (really, it’s mostly U.S. history, which is my least favorite) for that, and dropped the double major.
Later.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Letter One: The Pessimist Awakes
I will be honest...I've been planning this blog since 2009. I created it last fall. Today is my first post. Slow and steady wins the race, eh? Or something like that.
I guess I should start by telling you who I am. Just call me Lucy. No, it's not my real name, but it will suffice for the purposes of this blog. High school valedictorian, college graduate with a degree in General Studies: English and Spanish, which is not at all what I was supposed to receive. I moved home in 2009 to help my mom and grandma take care of my dad, and after losing my first post-college job, I have not been able to find employment again.
I know, pretty pathetic, right? Meh, that's life. Especially mine. But I keep plowing through, and eventually I'll land that dream job. At least, that's what this pessimist tells herself.
I can't promise to write every day, or every week, or even sometimes every month, but I promise that when I do, anyone who bothers to read this blog will be treated to an excellent dose of sarcasm, snark, wit, and amusing stories of the mess that is my life.
I guess I should start by telling you who I am. Just call me Lucy. No, it's not my real name, but it will suffice for the purposes of this blog. High school valedictorian, college graduate with a degree in General Studies: English and Spanish, which is not at all what I was supposed to receive. I moved home in 2009 to help my mom and grandma take care of my dad, and after losing my first post-college job, I have not been able to find employment again.
I know, pretty pathetic, right? Meh, that's life. Especially mine. But I keep plowing through, and eventually I'll land that dream job. At least, that's what this pessimist tells herself.
I can't promise to write every day, or every week, or even sometimes every month, but I promise that when I do, anyone who bothers to read this blog will be treated to an excellent dose of sarcasm, snark, wit, and amusing stories of the mess that is my life.
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