I’m not gonna lie: I’ve been a bit of a mess this week. My cousins went home last Wednesday, and I was already chomping at the bit, eagerly wanting to get back on my professional development wagon. But now it’s suddenly Wednesday again in mid-April, and I’m feeling a bit stuck.

I’m sure part of it is due to Remy. It’s been more than two weeks, and I still cry at the drop of a frickin’ dime. I thought I had processed most of it, especially after I made peace with the actual details of how she was put down, but I dunno. A part of me just feels so much grief and sadness. I have been trying to focus my energies on Martin, on the beautiful weather, on the promises of tomorrow, but I feel so alone without my little Bembo.

I met with my coach yesterday for lunch. She said I looked so well and rested (ah, the magic of makeup). Honestly, I’ve had trouble sleeping lately. Anyway, my lunch with her went ok: I told her about Remy and then when I got to my status update, I had a whole list of things that I had done since last we spoke. A hefty list, including training webinars and info interview requests and the upcoming: a job interview for an area city (web and communications gig), some meetups, lunch with the personality testing company contact… all good things and yet, I suddenly felt overwhelmed. Last August, I’d left my job to do something different, to move towards living a life that I love… Now, months later, am I closer? In our discussion, my coach suggested expanding my targets a bit more: read the Silicon Valley Biz Journal, look at the big, iconic tech firms here and see what they have with corporate social responsibility (CSR), etc. Her advice was nothing super demanding… I’d considered all those places before, and it probably was a good idea to circle back with some of those contacts, but for some reason, I just felt like my “dream” job was so far away. She said everyone she talks to wants to do nonprofit foundation/CSR work. I know the areas are extremely competitive, and it makes sense because people want meaning in their lives and at the same time, they want to earn a living wage. No 35+ y/o wants to be making $40k a year. I mean, let’s just be real. And I get all of that, but for some reason, yesterday was not the day to realize that the end goal was much farther beyond reach than I had thought. And the idea of circling back with people, of reaching out to more new strangers, of doing that whole “come be my friend” dance just made me feel so tired. I love cultivating relationships, and I’m good at it, but it takes a lot of energy. And then  I thought of Remy again: of how freakin’ little she ever asked of me. No matter what, she always thought I was great. What’s that saying? I want to be the person who my dog thinks I am.

I’ve never been averse to working hard, to doing my homework. But I think about the upcoming job interview, another social media job application that’s due tomorrow, and argh, it’s so much prep: learning about the organization, getting up to speed on their projects, studying up on the people, making the connections between my skills and strengths and their needs. The supplemental questions for this app that’s due tomorrow…. fuck, man. One of the questions asks, “In 140 characters or less, tell us why you are the best candidate for this position.” Totally logical question given the job, and yet, I am struggling. I mean, forget the elevator pitch right? 140 characters to say to someone, “Pick me to be your friend or to be on your team.”

I remind myself that if I’m indeed interested in more communications work, all of this is what it takes: ramping up super fast and cranking out content… it’s part of the job. Goddamn, just suck it up and get ‘er done!!

I’m going to need to write my coach and apologize for being such a buzzkill over lunch. For some reason, I made the dumb decision to pick up Remy on the way home. I know people in my community love my vet hospital, but Jesus Christ, when it comes to death, they really have to get their process nailed down. Seriously. I mean, first there was the euthanasia debacle where once we decided, it took them 30 min to come back into the room and another 30 minutes to successfully inject the poison. Dragged on. Then yesterday, I went to the front desk, paid the balance and then had to wait another 5-10 minutes to get her box of ashes. Come on! I mean, it’s already taking all the strength in me not to have a public breakdown, and then you prolong the process… I dunno if he couldn’t find the box or what. I was standing there for fucking ever!!! As soon as I got back in the car, the waterworks came on. The box is like screwed shut, and it has her nameplate on the outside. My new frame for the Remy print arrives tomorrow, and I’m thinking maybe I’ll just put the box on the highboy next to the print.

Later in the afternoon, I took Martin to the park, and we ran into the dog sitter. She expressed her condolences, and then asked if I was close to Remy. Huh?? I was taken aback, but I explained that I adopted Remy in grad school when I was living alone. But later, her question really bugged me… like the entire rest of the day. I mean, was it not apparent that Remy meant the world to me??? Did she not notice that I was always the one arranging for dog care; leaving notes and detailed instructions for her medications; researching special harnesses; feeding her special food; taking her to the vet??? She’s a good woman who means no ill will, and I know that in the end, Remy is the final judge. But shit, really?

So anyway, yesterday was pretty much shot. And now today is already more than half over. I’m going to take Martin to the park, and then come back and crank out this stupid application.