Out of sorts

I am having a really "off" day-- the kind where I don't even want to try to be talked out of it. The kind where I feel self-conscious about my joblessness and want to just hide from what seem to be disapproving glances.

It's the little things that unravel me. For instance, I decided to go to Target this morning. I had no reason to go; I mean, I can always find something I need, but I didn't need anything today. I just had to get out of the house. I passed one of my neighbors as I left my neighborhood. My first thought was, I hope she isn't wondering why I'm home all the time. Then, I thought, maybe she's going to think I'm going off to work or school this morning. But, that won't last long, the thought continued, because I will be back within the hour and she'll know I wasn't doing anything useful. She was still outside doing yard work when I came back home, and I cringed. Before you point out that she, also, was home on a Monday morning, let me assure you that it doesn't change a thing for me. She probably has a good reason.

Things weren't much better at Target. I passed a lot of businessmen in their nice suits, out running quick errands before work. Looking at them, I wondered what it would be like to walk around feeling like I actually amount to something.

Walking back to my car with my miscellaneous purchases, I saw a car that looked like my ex-boyfriend's. I swear, I am always thinking I see his car, and it upsets me every time. I rushed to my car, checking to make sure my tires weren't slashed or my windows broken. I am paranoid when it comes to him.

Now I am back home, and I cannot come up with anything to do that makes me feel better. I applied to so many jobs last week I can hardly stomach the thought of trolling through the latest postings. It doesn't help that I am drowning in lovely female hormones--recovery's greatest gift. I hope something works out this week.