My cat has this very bizarre fascination with orange mice. Unlike other toy mice, the orange ones never disappear, and linger for months, until finally beheaded. I find them on the futon, under the covers, in the laundry, and in my shoes. Peter likes to hide them in places for me to find them, so I can then throw them and be reminded of his cuteness. For as long as I live, I will probably always associate orange mice with him.
My life now has the constant reminder of what I once was. Orange mice like facebook messages, places, people, and everything I have surrounded myself with, remind me of teaching. It is impossible to escape, or remove from my mind.
The job hunt thus far has been an anxiety ridden roller coaster ride. At the end is financial and personal doom. I am 0-7 on the interview front, persistently second place. Everyone is keeping my resume in case another position opens. That matters little, because you are either first or last. This blog has become another orange mouse. It is now something I will purge from my life until life improves. Teaching was never a job, it was a calling. And right now I cannot stand being marooned. See you in a week, or a year, who knows.
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