Would you like fries with that?

"If we merged my job success with your relationship success. Your friends, my um, dvd collection, we'd have quite the person."

These words of wisdom were told to me last night by a (drunk) Fenella. It's very true, too. Why can't we have it all?

My personal life is in pretty good shape at the moment. I don't really have any complaints. Things are still going well with the cute neighbor. He's still cute. And I have some really great friends, both here and afar.

My career, however, is nonexistent. Seriously, I don't have one. I used to kinda sorta have one, but I quit that job to go to South America. By the time I came back, the economy had collapsed, and two years later, I still haven't recovered. I do not, however, regret this decision. I only curse the employment gods for my bad luck since. I have only been able to swing a part-time job since, and as we all know, served as a nanny for six months. For the most part, I've been pretty jovial about the whole poverty thing. I had an awesome opportunity to do something most people don't get to do, and now I have to pay my dues. But it's been nearly two years since I got back, and it's not so fun anymore.

I'm not asking for much. In fact, all I really want is the job I have now. Only full-time, with vacation and benefits. And much closer to where I live. I don't even need a huge salary, I just want to stop lying awake at night worrying about money. Is that so much to ask? I didn't think so.

There is nothing more demoralizing than searching (and searching, and searching) for employment. It's tough enough to find jobs that I'm actually qualified for, but when I do, my phone still doesn't ring. I'm beginning to think my resume is made of invisible ink. If I am more than qualified for a job, how can I not even get a phone call? Clearly I don't know the right people.

So now I'm looking for creative ways to make some money. I donated blood the other day in exchange for free baseball tickets, and I'm already back on the nanny trail, hoping the next job ends better than the last one. I won't sell my hair, as I feel obligated to donate it, and I certainly don't want to donate my eggs, since I definitely want to use those someday. What's left? Medical testing? Escort service? Greeting cards? (I'm kind of good at those)

If only Fen and I were one person. We'd have a steady income with 26 vacation days a year, a relationship, awesome friends, and apparently a sizable dvd collection. (By the way, Fen, do you have Glee yet on dvd? Because that's what I want...)