I just finished applying for 6 jobs:
-the vaguely described "Project Assistant," with a slightly alarming requirement for the "Ability to communicate sound judgement [sic] and respond quickly to emergency situations." Luckily, I'm also told in the announcement that I won't be at risk for tuberculosis. Small victories.
-"Grant/Contracts specialist," which I'm not hugely qualified for, but decided to apply for anyway because it's at Tulane.
-Some freelancing jobs, an idea I got from Christie.
-Freelance copy editing
-"Office automation assistant"--robotic, no?
-The old fallback of "Admin assistant."
I'm trying to keep myself from becoming too stressed out about this. I've been getting less and less sleep, due to having nightmares that fade away into very strange concerns that seem plausible at 4:45 am--bugs are crawling all over me, I will be fired from my job if I don't go in right now, Ravi is telling everyone he's been cheating on me for our whole relationship.
I'm cheered that my soon-to-be landlord and I were finally able to speak on the phone and hash out some of the details of the apartment situation. He was quite kind and is allowing me to pay my deposit in halves, as well as submit the lease via mail, which saves me a drive to New Orleans (not that I'd have minded too much, but it's nice not to use the gas). Of course, in a way this only stokes my money worries, as my thoughts veer toward "how will you pay for this apartment WITH NO JOB," but I have to remember that there are jobs out there and that I have loan money to fall back on as a last resort.
I'm also wryly pleased that my normal remedy for stressful situations, ice cream, has made me feel a bit sick and pretty out of sorts. That's a good, if somewhat sad, thing to have happened.