I'm not going to lie.

Okay, here's the thing.

I read an article today in the paper while eating oreos and drinking coffee (even though I'm on a diet) about people burying upside down statues of St. Joseph in the yards of the houses they are trying to sell. He is, apparently, the patron saint of real estate (wtf, catholics?) and it will help your house sell.

I thought about how absurd this was. Then I read part of the article outloud to my boyfriend, whose house selling is the tipping point of us moving to a more habitable location. Ya know... just in case.

And today, I started an unemployment blog. It was to post all of the pieces I've been writing about job searching, a place to put a donate button and pay-per-click google ads (hey! go click one!), and a way to creatively justify my unemployment-- make something fun and creative out of it.

But then, I was scouring the internetz for jobs as I do for at least 10 hours every day and saw an opening for a hostess at a restaurant less than ten miles away. I apply for almost every job. Seriously. Nothing is below me. Besides, well, prostitution and fast food. Which is really the same thing, eh? No? okay. Whatever. Keep reading, my story isn't over yet.

I went in to apply to be rejected. I have no restaurant experience. My resume is full of writing jobs. Why would they want someone who is going to leave as soon as I get something that actually lines up with my background? I know the answer, but I just can't stop asking. It's a disease. It's called unemployment.

But then. The manager was really nice and his (I think) partner who also works there was going back to school for creative writing... focusing in creative nonfiction. An uproarious, animated, and enthusiastic conversation on Sedaris, Vowell, Ira Glass, and story telling in general later... I was hired. I start Tuesday at 5.

BUT. I still have an interview Monday at 6:30 to write about. And, I'm sure, this job will give me loads to write about... not unemployment but... underemployment? I mean, I've been studying and working toward a writing career for five years and I'm about to make minimum wage to seat people. Just because I'm technically "employed" doesn't mean that I am in my heart?

Besides, I have a ton of stories written over the past month. It's not like I've run out of material.

So, in conclusion...

1. Keep reading; I'm still unemployed in my heart.
2. need to find a job? start a blog about how you never will.
3. need to find a job? find ones where writers are hiring.
4. if you're in eastern Pa, bury an upside down statue of St. Joseph on W King street if you think of it. Thanks.