I have been spending a bit of time at my writing student's (WS) home helping with their basement room. The walls are painted and the floor has been removed. So, next will be putting in the new floor and the workspace area. I absolutely cannot wait to see the finished "product." My WS's mother let me pick some beautiful colors for the walls, a pumpkin on the bottom third and a cantaloupe on the top two thirds with a wide band of white between the two. She actually had the idea of putting multicolored tiles on the floor (the wall color matched one of the four colors we picked for the floor), so the kids should find it a bright, cheerful place in which to do their homework.

I have cherished the opportunity to labor hard on their behalf. I need the distraction. While my virtual volunteering is taking up quite a bit of time for something that was just supposed to be a couple of hours a week, I still have too much time to think.

Both organizations with which I interviewed declined to hire me. I had another interview today, but I could tell that she was not really interested in hiring me. She thought I was more of her level, not a manager. The job duties also failed to mention that I would need to travel 30-35 times a year for a day or two at a time. The commute would be about an hour and parking would be $25 a week. The job would be good experience, but even if I am completely wrong and she offered me the position, I cannot see how I could in good conscience accept. The job would be an incredible drain on me. Still, I am 98% sure that I will not be needing to give further thought on the matter.

I have been crying since I came home, because I feel so lost and have so little hope that I can find a place where I can work...at least here. I know that God is sovereign. He understands where I am and has a plan, but I also know that I cannot just sit back and wait for some job to plop in my lap. I have to keep searching. But what if I am doing everything wrong? I am intelligent. I am skilled. I have significant work experience.

What is wrong with me?