Friends,

Updates on my abrupt move from Alaska to Washington as well as my diligence in applying for every job in the western hemisphere for the past three months.

Just to recap:

Move to Washington: success!

The upside: Family, activities, cheap utilities, delicious food, and this thing called Fro-o, which is apparently a frozen yogurt store with 13 different flavors and 50 toppings! We all know frozen yogurt is healthy, but 49 of the 50 toppings are loaded with sugar, fat, and calories. It is GLORIOUS!

Inconvenience: Nobody told me I would die from heat stroke.

I am willing to lay this burden at my family’s feet. When I was driving myself batty trying to fit 20 years into a 5×12 trailer, they could have said: ‘Alaskans might want to wait a bit before coming down here.’

Did they warn me that the sun turns on to broil every day at noon here?

No! They did not!

So, we have moved to Washington from Alaska to be able to venture out and experience the world and enjoy life- only to find ourselves miserably standing in front of box fans and arguing over who ate the last of the ice.

Here is the kick in the pants – I have discovered that the phrase ‘sweating off the pounds’ is not true. I have been sweating for two weeks and all I have to show for it is swollen fingers, a massive heat headache, and I have gained three pounds of ice water weight.

Someone lied.

Oh, it gets better!

It was two weeks ago that I announced I would not be returning to work. After many years of interacting with people on a daily basis, I finally reached a point where I could no longer handle the daily burden. Therefore, I decided to focus on my podcast/blog/book and become a world-renowned 4-star Michelin chef from the comfort of my own baby kitchen. 

But then….

A week ago, I got a call from a job I applied for. They wooed me with promises of gourmet coffee, my own office, and fulfilling work. They laughed at my jokes, said that I was a perfect fit, and wanted me to start right away because they needed me!

Sold.

The next day, I called my mom to schedule a shopping trip with her and my sister, since jeans and t-shirts are frowned upon in the modern work environment. The concept of jeans being inappropriate for work is something I have never understood. Do they not cover the whole leg? Don’t they offer more protection against the elements than yoga pants? 

I digress.

Shopping on Saturday ended with me only having one major melt-down and enough outfits to last 3 days. Granted those three days of outfits cost me two weeks’ pay at my last job- but they were practical and cute. No shoes though. I couldn’t take on that added pressure. I will just wear my Converse.

I knew that the following week was going to be my last week of freedom, so my youngest son and I tried to plan some adventures. But then the sun turned to broil, and we were forced to stay inside and try to survive.

Then I got the email notifications!

First notification- I need to update my federal security clearance. 

No problem. Just updated it two years ago. Since then, I haven’t been arrested and have only moved once, easy peasy. Within an hour, I updated and resent the information.

2nd notification- you need updated fingerprints. If you already have fingerprints in the system, we don’t care about them. 

You only have 3 days to get this done.

Cool. The only place that I can get an appointment is 50 minutes away. Road Trip!

3-hour round trip adventure- fingerprints have been done and sent. 

Final notification- we have received all the necessary information and sent it forward for review. The time frame is unknown. If you have questions, don’t call. Upon approval, our people will contact your people. 

That was last week. As I cannot call and inquire, I sit here in limbo with three amazingly expensive but practical work outfits and nowhere to go. 

In the midst of this whole situation, three other potential employers contacted me about setting up interviews. Every one of them requires a different background check!

In total, I spent 22 hours last week working on background checks, fingerprints, blood draws, DNA samples, eye scans, and detailed explanations of why I do not speak with my ex-husbands.

I still don’t have a job.

So, as I sit here with my morning coffee and three box fans blowing hot air on me, I find that trying to get a job is exhausting and expensive.

I think I will stay a housewife.