For anyone still reading this - you suck. Of course, I'm a rambler anyway so you'll get bored and leave soon anyway so I'm not really worried.
As most everyone knows, about a month and a half ago my company did a mass layoff (they've now lost more than 40% of their staff through lay offs and quitting in the last 12 weeks) and along with 14 other people, I too lost my job. Now don't get me wrong, I'm actually quite okay with it. I was in a bit of a creativity and career rut working there and I had been semi-job hunting for a few months before that anyway and this has just given me the push that is forcing me to move on. Plus, with my tax return, severance, vacation pay and unemployment I'm good for a while so don't be freaking out thinking that I'm going to be living a van down by the river any time soon (but I could end up in my parents basement which is part of my concern and reason for this post). However, I am selling my house so that if/when I do find that perfect job I won't have anything major tying me down that I still have to take care of.
My second major topic for this post is my ward status. For anyone who is an avid reader of my blog (both of you) you know that I was kicked out of my singles ward due to my age. They announced that this was going to happen back in August and that we had until the end of the year to find somewhere else to go - but the only real option they gave us was the family wards - hello nursery*. At the time there were 64 people in my ward that were being put out to pasture and I know of at least four more that were passing their shelf date before New Years.
And within those two stories lies my issue . . I go to a ward where the closest I get to social interaction are the blank stares of disapproval I get from the rest of the ward when I don't sign up to feed the missionaries and the old man that calls me Sister Larsen - he's the Executive Secretary, for Heaven's sake. Guess I won't actually be getting any callings any time soon. Imagine that conversation:
"I need you to call Sister Hansen to come in and meet with me."And then I stay home all day, every day. My roommate gets up and goes to work, often before I'm even really considering the idea of consciousness and until she gets home at night, I don't hold a single two-sided conversation. I say two-sided because I often talk to Chuck the Wonder Dog but he's not much of a conversationalist and has some really unusual political views, so I try to avoid that all together.
"Who's Sister Hansen?"
"The blonde that got kicked out of her ward."
"I don't know who you're talking about."
I believe it ends with "Who's on first?"
Melissa (previously mentioned roommate) isn't much of a night owl, and I'm not a morning person so we keep very different hours and she's often passed out and talking in her sleep before I've even had dinner which means that I can often go a full day without ever having had talked to anyone at all. Now, to be totally honest, I'm really okay with this. I'm not as social as I once was (okay, I know I've never really been social but for the sake of the post, just go with me on this) but I think this may be becoming an issue. Don't get me wrong, in the past few weeks I've spend quite a bit of time with my BF's because they've been kind enough to come help me on my house, A LOT! Which I totally appreciate and it's been a lot of fun to have them around. But they're all married and don't really live very close and they have many other priorities besides conversing with me. So since I was kicked out of my ward, and thus all single based activities and laid off from work, I've also lost almost my entire social network and I've developed a bit of a social bubble. And by bubble, I don't mean that I'm unaware for what's going on around me. I mean that I feel like the boy in the plastic bubble (thank you John Travolta for blessing the world with that cinematographic masterpiece) where I'm being kept from the rest of the world like I have leprosy or some other horrible contagious disease.
Seriously, this is more action than I've had in much longer than I'm will to admit. Unfortunately, my plastic bubble doesn't allow for making out, unless I'm allowed to start macking on the bag boy at Smith's since he's often the only boy I see for days at a time.
So I ask you this, what am I supposed to do about it? I've discovered that it's much easier to make friends, if you already have friends. No one wants to hang out with someone that has no one else to hang out with - you seem clingy and needy when they ask, "What did you do on Friday?" and all you can come up with is, "I sat at home by myself crying to my dog because you didn't return my call." And unfortunately, friends is something that I don't really have - at least not any single ones. So aside from internet dating (which I am totally against so don't even think about suggesting it), what on earth am I supposed to do to rectify the problem? However, in reality, it's not even a dating thing. Aside from a few wild and crazy (and starving) college years, I've never been much of a dater either. But I've almost always had a large group of friends that were around whenever I needed them. And since it would appear that both joining the ranks of a television sitcom where all we do is hang out at a coffee shop and marriage aren't really options, I seriously think it may be time to get out of Utah and start over somewhere that they don't ostracize people for being single. Next decision . . where to go. I guess that depends on finding a job - or winning the lottery, which sounds a whole lot more fun and less time consuming.
*If I were actually ever called to the nursery, I may have to convert to Catholicism and become a nun. At least then I'd be married to Jesus instead of being "in that situation".