Job Hunting, Crocodiles, and Weeds

So today was a day of despair. Every day, I am trying to get five CVs out, and do nothing until I do that. This morning, it took almost 2 hours to accomplish that. I've yet to speak to a physical HR person - to date, I have spoken with recruiters.

I actually feel sorry for the recruiters. I spoken with at least 5 about one of two jobs. The vision I relayed to Songbird is a waterhole in the African desert which is slowly shrinking as the water dries up. The crocodiles, having no where to go, continue to huddle in the increasingly dessicated waterhole, eating up the smaller ones until the last survivor dies in the heat. In many ways in this market, a recruiter can represent yet another cost which if if can be eliminated, will be.

I also found the secret key to the state job website, where I finally found where my job class lives (architects and engineers, oddly enough). Unfortunately, I also made the discovery that these are the same jobs posted on the Internet at company sites and if one is not careful, one can end up double applying, which is a huge faux pas.

As a result, I have been in a blue funk all morning.

So The Ravishing Mrs. TB kicked me out in the afternoon. "Stop looking" she said. "Go work in the garden."

I like working in the garden - good heavens, I was ordered to do so this time! I even had a task to complete: put a wire fence around it to prevent Syrah the Mighty from ripping up plants, hoses, and sprinkler heads (and raising my blood pressure to boot).

It was another of those cool winter days we get that foretells rain on the morrow: rushing clouds and sunshine, cold wind but not too cold. For once, my plan actually worked: the posts I bought were the right type, my wire cutters would cut the fencing, and so within 20 minutes I was done.

And then I got a look at the weeds.

Weeding is not my most fun thing in world for gardening - but then, I reflected as ripping them up, neither is it the most favorite thing in my real life. Same problem, really: it's tedious, it's boring, and I always seem to end up ripping up the plants I want too, no matter how careful I try to be. The interesting thing, I seem to think that it's an option for life; in reality, it's neither an option for life nor for gardening.

If that's the case, why do I allow the weeds of gloom, fear, and depression to grow unopposed?