Just when you think things will begin to look up, you get a phone call from a recruiter telling you that "8 months is a significant amount of time to be out of job and thus, a big red flag to employers."  Well, I have two words for her-- HOWEVER, I do appreciate her honesty.  What am I suppose to do?  Explain to people that my jerk-off ex-employer laid me off when I was 38 weeks pregnant?  Who the fuck is going to (without laughing) interview a chic that preggers?  Oh wait.  Then there is the minimum 6 weeks of maternity rest.  Jesus on the wooden cross.  I get more pissed as time goes on.

Lets not get it twisted.  I'm so thankful for my health, my son's health and my husband's health (minus his crappy ankles).  I have a great family and great friends.  Beau has lots of pseudo aunties and uncles that give him zerber kisses and squeeze his fanny.  With that aside, momma needs better insurance.  Enter:  a j-o-b.  It's been officially 12 days since my interview in Wisconsin.  Nothing.  Not a peep of communication hath come from their end.  I called the recruiting manager twice now.  Nothing.

I keep daydreaming about this sports bra company.  Perhaps I'll try and carve out some time each day to write a business plan.  Unfortunately, I have not a dime of capital.  I do however, have big hooters and love to run.  What should I call the business?  Hooters In Action?  Sturdy Sportswear?  Ahhhh Sportsbrahhhhs (get it.... like.... ahhhhh, it fits!)