It was brought to my attention last evening (and certainly not for the first time, and I'm guessing not for the last either) that I
may be am bitter. This is something that I've suspected for a while now, but when someone else points it out to you, someone you barely know and rarely ever see, it kind of hits home.
So yes, yes, I am bitter.
I shouldn't be, I know that, but it's so hard not to be.
Over the past few months, I have been feeling my confidence, my self-esteem, and my hope diminish. With every job that I apply to and don't hear back from, my self-worth is knocked down one more notch. My dreams of a successful career, of financial independence, of purpose, are fading.
And fading is easy. Being angry and sad and desperate and bitter is easy. Pulling oneself out of all of that is hard. But it must be done, and last night made me very aware of that.
As I'm sure you are all aware, I've been on this job search thing for quite some time now. At the same time, someone I am supposed to be supportive of and be happy for is also job searching. (There is very little room available in a bitter heart for support and happiness.) This person is having phenomenally better luck than I am. In fact, it could be said that he doesn't apply for jobs, jobs apply to him. Seriously. In the 2-3 weeks that he has been job hunting (aka posted his resume online), he has received job offers every day. In fact, as I'm typing this, I just received a text informing me that he just received another offer.
It's difficult to hear, every day, about someone else's good fortune when your own is pretty grim. It's difficult to try to talk to someone about how isolated, aggravated and bummed you've been feeling since moving to an unfamiliar place when the conversation is always being brought back to the opportunities this person is being offered. It's difficult to not be bitter when you're expected to be happy and excited for someone else while your life is barreling down the road of disappointment, let-down and suckiness.
But I'll try. I'll try to be happy and excited and less bitter.
And on a similar note, something else I learned last night...
If you want to drink when you go out with me, please, please, please make sure you BRING YOUR ID. I don't care how old you are or how old you look, when you're in my company and order alcohol, you will be carded. This is a proven fact. As the cashier at Wegmans kindly pointed out, "I don't know if she's 21 or 18 or..."
Trust me, no girl (and by "no girl" I mean me) wants to hide out in the bathroom of the Hard Times Cafe so you won't get carded when you order your beer, texting, "Have you ordered yet?" (with no reply, I might add), hoping that it is now okay for her (me) to join your table. And furthermore, no girl (ahem) wants to discover, upon joining your table, that she is now one beer behind because not only has the peppy waitress already taken your order, but she's also dropped your beers off and is now walking away just as
I said girl is sitting down. Which only exasperates the poor girl's frustration carried over from earlier when, while at dinner at 3 Bar & Grill, you asked for a sip of the girl's beer (because you couldn't order your own because you were the dumbass who left his wallet at home) and proceeded to down half her beer. And for the record, pointing out that, hey, "you can always order another" doesn't help. But I digress.
And while we're on the subject, is there anything more annoying than going out for dinner and drinks with a couple of people only to have them spend most of the time on their phones? As a rule, I will not answer my phone during a meal (unless, of course, I am 99.99999% positive the person calling is going to either 1- tell me someone is having a baby, 2- tell me someone has just died or 3- tell me that the fate of the free world is in my hands and unless I get on the helicopter RIGHT NOW the aliens are going to send an asteroid to destroy Earth. Wait, what?).
So yeah, in the world of dining and drinking etiquette, I believe that phones are a no-no. And I don't think it's necessary to answer your phone only to tell the person who is calling that you can't talk right now. I'm pretty sure that if you don't answer the phone, the person on the other end will understand that that means you are unavailable. And yes, I will admit, quickly replying to a text may be necessary, but spending most of your time on your damn phone is uncalled for. And is it just me, or are men the worst offenders (yes, I'm looking at you, Gregarious, Thing Two and Pooh)?
Obviously, I experienced this form of rudeness last night. I don't have one of those fancy, schmancy internet browsing phones, so, needless to say, I felt pretty left out. And, I might add, pretty envious of the next table over where good times were being had, as evident by all the laughing, cheering, and singing. On the plus side ('cause I'm trying to positive, right?), I learned that it is possible to carry on a conversation with a glass of Hoegarden, and you're likely to get more out of it than trying to converse with two dopes with their thumbs permanently affixed to their mini-keypads.
In related news, I'm hunting for shit to do this weekend for the 4th in DC. Any good tips?