The Hunt.

You'd think I'd be good at this. 

I come from a long line of hunters, and gatherers for that matter.

My grandfather shot wolves out of planes.

My father shoots turkeys with a bow and arrow.

My brother lures fish to his hook.

And some how the genes skipped me. 

I'm a terrible hunter.

I have a steady hand for aiming.

I have patience to wait for my prey.

I have a keen sense of direction for tracking.

I have a soft step for the stealth attack.

And yet...

Maybe it's because I've never taken hunters' safety.

Maybe I should blame Rob, who first taught me to shoot a gun.

Whatever it is, my prey alludes me. 

COME ON!?

This job hunt nonsense is ridiculous. If a job were a thing I could actually hunt, I would set giant, illegal traps and use special game calls to lure them into my grasp. I'd then be completely RUTHLESS and paralyze them with my girlie good looks, kill 'em with my stellar work experience, skin 'em with my fantastic academic record, and process the meat for tonight's supper with my bubbly personality. 

WHY IS THIS SO HARD!?!?!?

COME ON!?!?

I'm great. 

Am I the only who sees this?

If I could hire myself, I would. I would also give myself great benefits, health insurance and the likes, paid vacation, weekends off, and a company car. Among other things.

*la sigh.

And yes, I did just compare job hunting to actually hunting.

DEAL WITH IT.

Love,

Future Working Woman,

Annie.