Still no job.

Archangel Uriel is gonna burn away your bad shit. You feel me?

I found out on Friday that I didn't get the job that was mere blocks from my house at a successful, pre-IPO start up. I was sure the stars and planets were aligned on this. How could it not be God's will? The rejection hit me hard and I've been fermenting a stew of anger, shame, resentment, and guilt for feeling these things. Then ex called to report he hired a lawyer who told him he'd been overpaying support for the last three years and I owed him money. This did not bode well for the stew. In fact, I fell into the old pattern of me doing my Warner Bros. Tasmanian Devil and him clamming up. It would be funny if it weren't happening to me.

I couldn't calm myself enough to pull an Angel card until this evening. Here's what I got:

Archangel Uriel
Your emotions are healing. I will help you release anger and unforgiveness from your heart and mind. I simply and lovingly ask them to be willing to release toxins from their mind and heart. If they are willing to do so, then the release will occur. In this way, the person retains their dignity and control, while choosing to be clear of lower energies.

I have the dignity and control of a tired two-year-old, along with this desperate need to feel secure and, for me, security means a full-time job and money. It's a false sense of security, really, because both of those things are paper and ephemeral, and yet I am beholden to them. I am clinging to them as if they were my lifesavers. I've been down this road before. I know these things, but then I forget.

Then--and here's God at work--a friend forwarded me this piece by one of my sisters in spiritual progress, Anne Lamott, who describes losing it Tasmanian Devil-style like this:

But eventually I am too tired to continue and my head has become too uninhabitable, and I realize I’ve been driving this rickety temperamental old bus of my mind around for too long. I’ve lost all sense of direction and am feeling confused and pissed off and bitter and resentful and nuts; but then finally, finally just tired. I begin to worry that I have had or
am having a complete nervous breakdown, and that I am about to start weeping or barking and won’t be able to stop. Sometimes I still look more or less okay on the outside except for the tics, which can actually be pretty unsightly but inside I’m feeling a little bit more like Ted Kaczynski than I like to. And I realize I’m just crazier than a shithouse rat; and that it’s all hopeless. And that the sun is burning out.

She always makes me feel better about being crazy and this makes it easier for me to forgive myself for feeling scared and acting like a little kid and for picking up that rock of money fear AGAIN. And AGAIN, I am stating that I'm willing to have this fear removed, that I'd like a few angels with bleach and sponges to go to work on my psyche. Thank you. Good night.