So very many ways for the job market to bring on the fantods.

Slogging through this ginormous stack of applications has introduced me to a whole new range of suck fits. I'm kind of a fucking mess.

One minute I'm convinced I'm a philosophical fraud: I'm a total retard and my dossier is a piece of shit and I'm utterly unqualified for these jobs and I'm not going to get even a single interview. And then the next minute I look at the addresses on the envelopes and freak out because I don't even want most of these jobs: I don't want to live in Assfuck, Nowhere and I don't want to teach a 5-5 to hordes of mouth-breathing douchebags whose deepest philosophical conviction is that thinking deep thoughts probably makes you a faggot.

The best part is how talking myself down from one tends to bring on a fit of the other.