Rejection, rejection, and more rejections.

Well not even rejected. Ignored, is more accurate, and far worse.

So I do my research, I get myself on the press list, I attend mostly boring, hours long presentations, write what I think is a crystal-clear pitch for a story and then I wait and wait.

And unfortunately nothing comes back.

I check e-mails at 7 pm or 10pm, ostensibly to see if whatever friend has replied to whatever issue I've manufactured to keep my inbox lighting up, but really hoping that Editor X of middling-reputation newspaper Y has accepted my blind pitch.

But so far they haven't and I just feel like a huge loser whose professional life is ticking steadily backwards.

Editors did at one time respond, when I was a nearly completely untested aspiring reporter in the Middle East many moons, children and husband ago. I had very few clips to my name, no resume prepared but somehow convinced people that I could get the job done. This despite the fact that I didn't have even high school or college newspaper experience, didn't know what a fucking byline was, much less have one. But blind newspaper queries, internships intended for earnest, J-school graduates, I nailed them.

Nearly a decade later, I'm in a rut with noone to blame but myself. And believe me I have tried to blame others, the brunt of that blame tending to fall on my mostly blameless husband.

To be clear, its not as if I'm doing nothing. I write the occasional story for my former employer, all of which have been very well received. I've scored some very important interviews for a small, niche energy news service. It serves to keep my byline fresh, my clips varied and hopefully employable whenever I get back to the real world, but it is continuation of the same.

I'll be applying for jobs that I was eligible for five years ago. No real breakthrough into anything new. No example of my working shining through on its own, blazing a new path to opportunity.

I have plenty of time on my hands, having outsourced nearly all household duties to others. No longer constrained by a 9-5 job (ahhhh constraining but yet so comfortable), unable to blame the kids for siphoning all my time, I can theoretically pursue whatever I want.

But with the confines of a job stripped away, I'm forced to confront that I'm constrained by nothing but personal drive and talent.