The Definition of Christine

Christine is Latin for "Follower of Christ"........or a horror novel by Stephen King written in 1983. Depends on your Google results.

Ahhh.......that doesn't help.

OK, start easy:  Christine is a mom. Christine is a wife. Christine is a daughter, a sister, a friend, a cousin, a niece, a granddaughter.

That's all well and good, but doesn't define me beyond my relationship to others.  At times I stop and really try to define who I am to myself and get a little discouraged.  In a grotesque way I often wonder what my obituary would say.  "She was a nice person. Didn't do anything extraordinary, wasn't the member of any organizations and didn't have a passion for anything outside of a cold glass of pinot grigio with a few ice cubes."

But seriously, now that I'm going to be forced to talk about myself at job interviews, I'm starting to worry.  I don't want to let unemployment define me.  And I don't want to start a pattern of writing and blogging about how I can no longer "label" myself as a VP, or as a working mom, or even a stay at home mom, because I am in that in-between place right now.  But I have to figure out how I want to present myself to others in order to try and secure that next gig.

On the flip side, I have incredible pride in the fact that I'm raising two children who don't use many labels so why am I obsessed with my own? They've never used black or white to describe someones skin - they use light or dark.  We've discussed when and how to use fat and skinny and we remind them that people come in all shapes and sizes.  They don't see wealth or poverty in what someone "has" but understand that we do our best to help those who need some assistance, whether it's food or clothes.

So when it comes to trying to describe or define my own purpose, it gets pretty complicated. Do you ever think about your definition?  And is mine now officially "neurotic"? Could be...probably don't want to start off with that in a job interview, huh?

Tipped upside down

I always proclaim, "It's harder to find a new job when you have a job, then when you don't!"

I guess I'm about to find out if that is true.

Sneaking around on job interviews and to meetings is so stressful when you are unhappy at your place of work. The lies. The fake sick days. Ugh.  However, when you love your place of work, it is just as stressful to find out that you no longer have that happy place. The shock. The sadness. The despair. Ugh.

My draft post for last week was supposed to be a tribute to my husband and my Dad for Father's Day.  Instead, that got dumped in a bucket when I found out that the world as I have known it for 3 years was about to change.

I explained to my children what happened so they wouldn't be freaked out when I started picking food out of the garbage and shouting (more than normal) "This toast is too damn expensive to throw away without eating the crust!" My daughter started brainstorming ideas. They are as follows:

Work at school
Work at a restaurant "You'd be really good at that" (been there, done that)
Work at the Mall (her favorite pick)

and after her shower last night:

Work at....uhm...well...I can't think of any more

Yeah kid, neither can I.

Onward. Upward. Outward. Chin up. Can't cry until they foreclose on the house. There are no tears in unemployment.

Keep the wine away. The pity party could get ugly.