The one where I cried at Ulta....

Okay, so in order to tell this story properly I need to back up a little....

I have been looking for a job for a pretty rediculous amount of time now.  I would like to find a job that I actually need (and maybe even get to use) my degree.  See, I'm one of thos people who chose my degree for all of the wrong reasons.  I have a Mass Communications degree because I wanted to do advertising and write press releases and speeches and get paid to talk to people, and for people.  I love my degree.  I loved the classes I had to take to get my degree. 

Yep, all of the wrong reasons. 

If I had it to do over again my choice would be "reason free from passion."  (I took some liberties with Aristotle here, I don't think he will mind)  I would go into nursing or teaching or some other trade where you are almost guarenteed a job when you graduate.  But, I digress.... 

Back to today....

I work part time, yes PART time, at a gym.  I actually really like my job, but it just doesn't cut the mustard if you are picking up what I'm laying down.   Funds are low, to put it mildly, and my life in general is just not where I expected it to be at 28 years old.  I'm not really sure how much longer I can continue like this, and at the same time, I'm kind of impressed with myself for making it this long.  Every month that the bills actually get paid and I manage to have food to eat, I give myself a giant pat on the back.  And I thank God, because simple math clearly shows that He must be involved. 

Okay. Pitty party over. 

The point to all of that....  I used to be super obsessed with make-up and hair products and all things of the sort.  I still get made fun of for the days when I went to the mall before every night out, to buy something new to wear, and then IMMEDIATELY took my happy lil ass to the MAC counter to buy matching (yes, matching) eye shadow.  I didn't own make-up that wasn't MAC.  I still have the MAC staples but it is now mixed with a whooooooole bunch of drug store make-up. 

There is a pretty little gem from OPI that I have been coveting for a couple of weeks now.  Teenage Dream from the Katy Perry collection. 

I had decided that since yesterday was pay day, I was going to treat myself.  Yes, I had to plan out my $7 nail polish purchase two weeks in advance.  Annnnnny way.....  I got off work last night and immediately drove to Ulta to pick up my new little friend.  I was pumped!  I walked in the store, marched straight to the back where the OPI stuff is and looked......and looked.....and looked.  Yes! There it is, the Katy Perry collection!  But.....no Teenage Dream.  Thats okay, they have this stuff in a million different places throughout the store, I'll keep looking.   Nope.  No such luck.  I even asked a worker.  To say I was dissappointed puts it mildly.  I was sad.  Then I wasted a little more time playing in the make-up.  That always makes me feel better.  Not last night.  Last night it was just a brutal reminder that I was no longer a fancy make-up purchaser.   (I admit, kind of dramatic.  I was feeling a little sorry for myself.)  Thats when I felt it.  The lump in my throat.  Eyes starting to water....  Oh no!  How fast can I run out of the door without looking like I had just stolen something??  I quickly collected myself just long enough to make it to my car and then I sat in the parking lot and cried.  Over nail polish.  Yep, new low for me. 

Then (may I add)  I called my mom and sister, neither of which answered,  (Thanks ladies. Way to be there.) collected myself and drove home.  Just one of those days, I guess.  They happen to everybody.  In a way, I'm thankful for these times.  These times are my job hunting motivation.  And I know that they are the times I will laugh about when the day finally (finally) comes that I have a job.  Some day (hopefully very soon), I will look back on this and think it is really funny.  Its already pretty funny today, actually.  And Lord knows, I will never take MAC make up or a simple nail polish purchase for granted. 

On a lighter, side note:

When I walked in to ULTA last night the greeter, who was easily 5-6 years younger than me, asked me if I had an appointment.  "An appointment for...??"  I responded.  Her response, "Prom Preview."  (Thats where high school girls can come in and have their hair and make-up done as a trial run for their prom.)  So, clearly, I look like a 17 year old, high school girl. 

So there's always that.