A Quitter Quits Quitting

I create this blog for the following reasons:

1) Improve typing 

2) Prove I can write 

3) Post my goals and track my progress 

4) Maybe I will find friends. Or Love. Or crazy psycho killers. 

5) I want to tell my story, even if no one listens. 

I quit jobs, relationships, and most things. Last week on Thursday, I quit my job as a Job Recruiter. There were too many layers of irony, so I moved past it. 

This week, the final (at least for the next 5 years) Job Hunt begins. The marketing world of advertising, client representation, and branding looks full of creativity and HOPE. That's what I lost last week when I quit my job as a Job Recruiter. The work day ended, I drove into my parents driveway past acres of perfectly manicured grass, parked my car, shoved the keys into my purse, opened the car door, stumbled out onto the pavement and with every step, I lost hope. 

Taking off my shoes at the front door, Dad stood behind the counter in a sparkly blue kitchen, opening the newspaper and reorganizing it to match his reading preferences.

"How was work?" he asked without looking up. 

"I have no hope, Dad." 

He hugged me, handed me a box of tissues, and secretly asked what kind of Mike's Hard I would prefer. I say secretly because Mom doesn't want me to associate sadness with alcohol. Thanks, Mom. I chose peach. 

Dad talked me through the conversation I should have with Bossman (his contact name in my phone), and the next morning I quit yet another job.

And that brings me to this blog, the job hunt, and the search for Hope.