For the whole of this year, I have been teetering on the verge of huge success or utter disaster. I've joked that I hope my ass is pointed in the direction of success because, you know, baby got back. But this economy is one nasty futhermucker. It is mean and brutal and shows no signs of easing up. Unless you're at Goldman Sachs. Which, I'm not.
Job hunts have that whole needle/haystack vibe. I've lost count of how many resumes I've sent out. Headhunters are actually pooling resources to staff jobs. That, my dears, is unheard of in this town. Deals that were set to go through four months ago fell through instead. Everything is an illusion...sometimes verging on nightmare. It's like being in an episode of "Twilight Zone", except we don't get union pay.
I know I'm not alone in this sad, leaking, little rowboat. As a matter of fact, there isn't one of my friends not affected by this. Not one. And I've got a lot of friends, believe it or not. And they have rallied around me in heartbreakingly amazing ways. I'm pretty rich in that aspect of my life. I just wish it were a contagious condition.
I'd like to think of myself as a self-sufficient gal who can handle just about anything. But, lately, I've been indulging in some rescue fantasies. I know, it's so cliche. But, at times like these, what I need is a hero. Or a benefactor. Or a magician. Something like a miracle. And I want it not just for myself but for you and my friends and everyone going through this mess. We deserve that, don't you think? Because we are good people. We have worked hard. We deserve a break. So, take one here and indulge in some classic Bonnie. Come on. It can't hurt. Well, maybe just a little. But in that oh-so-good way. xo
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