floods and other metaphors

I had this emotional fallout on Tuesday evening, while I was looking for jobs. I get myself in this cyclical thought process from hell. I can't decide what job I want to apply for because I don't really know what I want to do, but I do know what I want to do--I want to write (or go to school for it). I told myself I could go to library school so that at least I would have a career and some flexibility if we needed to move or something. Then I was like why am I spending money on going to library school when I really want to write, but then I yell at myself for not writing. And then say I should just get a good job. This is hindered by my jumping around and how my face says, I don't really want this as my career in my interviews. Usually this whole process ends up with me in tears, drinking beers and being consoled by P, who must be sick of this whole thing by now.

Yesterday I searched for low-residency programs and more jobs. I felt better. Of course, there is my anger that PP won't look forward and admit that I could be a great asset to their store. I feel like I am getting handed little treats for being good, but that they have no intention of ever promoting me. So I am really forced to look for new jobs, because I can't be acknowledged.

So then, I am thinking that although I love it, why the hell am I doing that web stuff for PP? THey don't acknowledge it or even seem to see its benefits.

Then, yesterday evening, when I was done for work and realizing that I have 2 days off in a row!, we had a severe thunderstorm. The moat that has been dug around our house so that people can re-seal the foundation filled up with a foot of water. Our front entry way filled up with water and leaked into our house, bring silt, gravel, trash and that wonderful moisture smell. I spent a good hour bailing out the entryway while P tried his best to funnel the water out of our backyard. The moat then gave the water a more direct route into our foundation, so our rug is wet in the
bedroom.

This project was only supposed to take three days and now we're heading into the end of the second week of having our foundation exposed. Plus, it has messed up our back "yard" and therefore I can't GARDEN effectively. My plants are traumatized. It's awful.

Within 24 hours many tears and raindrops and bailing out my soul. Then the cover of the Onion: "Writer decides to use water as a metaphor"

b