Well, that explains it.

After sending out half a dozen resumes with no responses, I sat down with a headhunter.  Apparantly, my resume sucks.  The shame of it is that what I have been doing for the last four years is barely relevant to anything and all of my relevant experience is years old.  I thought that made it useless, but apparantly not.  I added all my old experience, reworded stuff, and resubmitted to the headhunter.  We'll see what he says. 
Now I'm upset because I applied to several great jobs for which I really am qualified, but I sent them the bad resume and I wonder if I could just sneak in the new one with a slightly jazzier cover letter and maybe they'll never know the difference?  Pay no attention to the resume behind the curtain!
I was busy at work until 11:30 last night, so I did all this resume work this morning with the boys home and all over me.  This is not the ideal work situation and, in fact has me more than a little cynical, misanthropic and kind of wondering how early is too early to start drinking?  I kid, I kid.  It's always 5pm somewhere, right? It's NEVER too early.
Anyway, my pursuit of gainful employment has us skipping the playground this morning as I beg, BEG the boys to keep themselves entertained.  I know, I know, any serious working mother worth her salt would have been able to accomplish a resume update from the playground while pushing them both on the swing, or I would have sent them off with a babysitter, but I just can't afford it.  Which brings me to the next great conflict; for me to work full time, I will have to hire a full time babysitter.  That means I have to factor someone else's salary into my salary requirements, not to mention rent and incidentals.  Which begs the question; am I worth it?  What can I offer any company that is worth that much money?  I have worked in the same place for four years and THEY don't think I'm worth it, why would a new place value me any more than the place to which I have tried to prove myself worthy for the last four years.
This is my fear, friends, the great concern that is asserting itself as a belief - I am not worth it.  Not to anyone.
I move from room to room, taking in the details, the way things fit and belong, the pieces we've augmented to make everything work, the elements that make it beautiful and make it home.  In my head I speak to the walls, to the tree across the street "I'm doing it for you.  To stay inside your borders, because you have contained so much of our lives and I don't know how to live outside of you.  I'm setting out on this journey to ascertain my value because I want to keep coming home to you."
And then I realize, I'm talking to a wall, and a tree.  And I don't know what good any of it will do.