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A Multitude of Itchy Feet Makes the Caravan Competitive

Competition becomes one of the great opacities of
confusion and of anger at times (when I allow some
semblance of expectation, when it appears to my
ignorant pea-headedness—on such matters—I would
refuse to say that I in general exhibit a pea-headedness—
and how ridiculous that statement is considering let’s call
pea-headedness ditziness and it’s a whole new ballgame).
Is it my imagination that I’m a ditz?  It’s one typecast that
I have worked over so much time in order to—and here
is where I’m not 100% sure I’m being real, as this could
be some sort of excuse, albeit subconsciously, refusing
to believe (and I don’t, I believe I come across as ridicul
ously pea-headed at perhaps a majority of time until people
[please, until people get to know me] get to know me, right?)
Oh, I don’t know.  Who does that anymore?  That novel of freak
ishly freaky tales of one so-called interview after another after
another after another, and then, for a time, just to know, asking
for feedback: “Do you have any questions for me?” “Why, yes, I
do.  Firstly, in the short time that we’ve had together, what do you 

feel is the biggest obstacle, should there one, that you might kindly
articulate, getting myself from here to filling this role?”  I’d get answers

couched in all sorts of supposed compliments at first.  Then the nitty 

gritty comes.  Criticism I’ve received my entire life, it turns out.  I

am, as I prefer to call it, overly enthusiastic.  It can also be called:
“You seemed to interject a lot,” “You speak too fast,” “You meander,”
“You talk over others.”  Well, okay.   My therapist tells me that I

seem to have pressured speech.  This was a new one to me, but
makes perfect sense.  It is often associated with bipolar disorder
or schizophrenia.  In my case, it seems to be anxiety that is the 

root of the problem (isn’t anxiety the foundation of so many of 

my problems?).  She likes to explain it as my brain working faster
than most everyone else’s (this was my father’s excuse, by the
way, for why he spoke so slowly that I would finish his sentences
for him, much to his square-wheeled sentence delivery conster
nation).  Well, okay.  I can live with a problem that could also
be considered a compliment.  But, oh, the sour circumstances it 

has caused.  It was exacerbated by things I had no real control
to change quickly, and so now, at 55 years old, I have a med

ical term for a problem that seems to have contributed to my
frequent bouts with unemployment (note to self: taking contract
positions might be problem number one, here).  So, after months of

intense and deliberate work, I have mostly eliminated this night

mare of an issue.  Could this be why I’m suddenly getting a slew 

of second and third interviews?  Only time will tell.  There have

been many false alarms thus far in my illustrious non-career.
Or my career ellipsis.  But, since this is happy month, I vow
here and now to not make it a career dead end.  Plus, I think
my third interview this morning went well.  Tomorrow morning,
there is yet another first interview.  And I’ve spent the evening
sending out new applications, letters of interest and résumés.
Chin up, fingers crossed, positive attitude, and off we go again.
Updates to follow.  As always.