One hundred and nineteen Cyber Monday emails yesterday.
The RV park on Jekyll Island is a dust bowl. Apparently, it hasn't rained here for two months. Even if it had, it wouldn't matter: the park is dirt, sand, sawdust, and pine needles, so water couldn't bind them for very long. The dogs have brown legs from the dirt, and they are systematically distributing it all over BOB. I am despondent. The tree cover is terrific. Spanish moss hangs from the deciduous trees and loblolly pines. Squirrels run amok, and the dogs have been trilling since we arrived; they have been camped out by the screen door watching "Squirrel TV." The seasonals have decorated their sites for Christmas which gives the place the air of a mobile home park.
Kim and Kate arrived at their friend's home on Jekyll Island on Sunday afternoon. They are only 2.6 miles from me, so that is convenient. The four of us went to a pub for dinner Sunday night. I had a cheeseburger and fries, so my diet on Sunday consisted almost entirely of meat and cheese – not my ideal. Yesterday afternoon, we took the trolley tour of the historic Jekyll Island Club which dates back to 1886. There were 53 original members, among whom were Marshall Field, Henry Hyde, J.P. Morgan, Joseph Pulitzer, and William K. Vanderbilt. Only 11 private homes remain, one of which was a farmhouse that pre-dated the club, and it was relocated during its development. We toured the farmhouse and, Mistletoe, a Dutch colonial built by the Porters. The other homes have been re-purposed by the hotel, and they comprise the modern Jekyll Island Club.
I spent yesterday morning looking for work. Last week, I wrote letters to five companies, and yesterday I wrote four more. I searched The Muse, Velvet Jobs, LinkedIn, Ziprecruiter, and Business of Fashion, and I applied online for a few positions. I do this every week, multiple times per week. I anticipated that I would reach point where the job search process would become demoralizing, and I had twangs of that yesterday. I'll be 52 next month, and I've had a non-traditional career path because I left Corporate America and did what I always wanted to do: run a small company. That makes me an odd-duck, a square peg, a unicorn of sorts. Sigh.
Siobhan M. Knox
In May 2016, I bought a five ton, 25’ long Class C motorhome because I like to drive, I like to travel, and it’s more fun and less expensive than living in a hotel. No prior RV experience was required, and I had none: perfect. I’m writing a book about my adventures which will come to an end when I get a job. The dogs will be sad.