Another Year, Another Disappointment: Monkey Bread

I got excited. I thought of manicures and flats and cute dresses and a new battery for my long-forgotten watch. I imagined summer nights on the porch and being a regular at happy hour at a beautiful bar. I imagined a boss who would let me grow and change and excel and interacting with excited customers. I imagined baking dessert for the pantry or cinnamon buns for breakfast. I thought about the flexibility and imagined a life full of passion. 

The interview was good. It was really good. I made her laugh. I connected. I told stories of social work and helping the youth and customer service. I told decades worth of stories of small business to small corporate to international corporations. I sugar-coated all the negative things about my job, I held back my anger at feeling unsupported and under appreciated. I hid it really well. I don't hide very well, but I did it. 

I convinced myself I could easily do 60 hour weeks because I was so excited. I imagined listening to music while I did tasks. I thought about genuinely smiling at my coworkers. I dreamt of laughing every day. I daydreamed about feeling light at the idea of going to work.  

But I didn't get it. 

I didn't get it. 

I didn't get it. 

"I actually think you're destined for bigger things than our little hotel." I cannot even fathom what this woman who met me for one hour can imagine what I'm destined for or how it's bigger than a beautiful, century old hotel run by a family who literally gets to live there, but I hope she's right. I hope she's not just playing nice and saying pleasantries, but today I can't imagine what she means. 

Today I got a text that I'm special from a man who's met so many people it would make my introverted head spin. I'm "super strong, driven, and strange." How can people I love make me feel so special, but I can't land a $14/hr job or move up in a company that I feel like I personify. What is wrong with me if only the few people I open up to know my "true" potential? What if I've just tricked everyone, myself included? 

When I get sad and disappointed, I bake for compliments. How surprising. So I didn't want elaborate. I didn't want too many dishes. I wanted easy. I wanted delicious. I wanted visibly gorgeous and interesting. So I made Monkey Bread from a Pioneer Woman recommended recipe. It was beautiful. It was easy. It was delicious and not low calorie in anyway. As one of my favorite people quotes all the time, "More butter, more better."