I’m still planning to do a SLIME Illustrated post, but it needs time to settle in my mind so I can do it right. Meanwhile, back to the resolutions. This week’s not-resolution focuses on jobs.
I’m leery of telling anyone I’m looking for a job because they immediately start suggesting full-time jobs. You know what may be the absolute worst part of having a chronic illness? Having to explain it, over and over and over and over again. If I write down my requirements, next time someone starts suggesting things that are totally unrealistic, I could point them to my blog and say, “Go read that.” They probably won’t read it, but then again, they don’t listen if I try to tell them, either. At least this way I don’t have to run my brain to ground by reciting the same story for the umpteen-thousandth time.
With that said, I’ll define the parameters. I need a job that pays more than my current employment. I used to have one, so I know they exist. I’m not hoping for a fortune, but it would be nice to break five figures again. I could pay my bills and put a buck or two in savings for the next time I get sick.
The job must be indoors, because lupus doesn’t do well out in the elements. I must be able to sit, because my feet hurt. A lot. Nope, make that “even more than a lot”. I don’t do well answering phones because that constant screaming hurts my nerves. (They actually call that “ringing” but to me it’s a scream.) Also my brain randomly gets fogged in, and it’s very frustrating to try to explain something to someone on the phone when you can’t find the words you need. In person, you can at least point and grunt when words fail. With writing, you can look things up. On the phone, you’re screwed.
Something else to consider is that I cannot sit still for hours on end. I have to be able to get up and walk around a bit so my muscles don’t seize on me. Being stuck to a phone or a room full of children, for instance, is highly uncomfortable and not recommended.
One extremely important consideration is time. I’m good for maybe eight hours. Before you say it – don’t. That does not mean “gee, then you can work eight hours”. That means “eight hours total”, as in: get up, fix breakfast, get dressed, drive to work, find parking space, walk to office, work, leave office, find car, drive home, and go back in house. Eight hours total. Any more than that, and it’s beddy-bye time. Even when I keep to those limits, there still are days when I nap at every red light on my way home. Was that a cop? Oops.
Regular hours are necessary, too. We lupies have to be careful with our spoons (Google “Spoon Theory” if you don’t know what that means). I have everything rationed out so I can make it through the week, barring any major disasters. Or minor disasters, either, for that matter. You can’t expect me to come in early because Lil Prissy had to leave early for an emergency mani-pedi, or stay a couple extra hours because Sugar Butt’s youngest just barfed all over the school nurse. The wolf does not change easily.
To sum it up: I’d like an indoor desk-type job, preferably relying on the written word (as in emails) rather than phone calls, that pays something the neighborhood of $15 an hour. The hours, including travel, must be regular and equal no more than eight per day. And if you could throw in a boss who doesn’t micromanage, that would be great.
While searching through job listings, I cross off anything that doesn’t fit. Please, before you suggest another job for me, ask yourself: does it fit the wolf’s requirements? If not, don’t suggest it. It’s annoying. My wolf simply doesn’t have the spoons to deal with that. If you stress her out too much, she might bite me, and then I might not be able to handle a job at all.