Basking in the warm glow of victory

Yesterday, I won at bowls.
It was an eventful day in our house because I have a husband of the
I-must-win-at-all-costs-winning-is-all- variety.
He is undoubtedly a sweetheart, with a kind, wise old soul, but ambitious beyond words.
We went bowling. I won. He sulked all the way back home. Enough said.
Today is Monday. The start of another new week in credit crunched, recession blighted blighty.
I am ( still ) job hunting. I'm looking for that elusive thing- a job which fits in mostly with school hours thus avoiding the need for costly daily wrap- around daycare. Our girls seem to think that my job is to look after them. I don't think they can imagine a time when they were not the centre of our universe. `but Mummy, you look after us`....
`yes sweetie, but what does Mummy do when you are at school all day; don't you think Mummy would like a nice little job to fill the few hours between 9 and 3 ?`
`don't be silly Mum,
you can go on facebook`
I like social networking, but it doesn't pay.
I must have delusions of grandeur. I assume that, despite not having worked for an employer for several years, the fact that I did once work, and was bloody good at it, means that I should be able to sashay back into a convenient local job paying similar amounts to my last role.
It seems that this is not possible.
Not only is there a deep recession going on, there are women who have never taken a career break, who have worked from babyhood onwards, and kept their CV shiny and updated.
It doesn't matter that I use a PC most days and have recent experience of every (almost ) Microsoft package and that I've gained valuable new skills as a Mother because the career-gap needs to be bridged with something.
I'm positive that something will turn up.
I'm just getting bored of trotting out that old cliche on an almost weekly basis.
I have plenty to fill the not-so-empty hours, so why am I moaning ?
Did I mention that we are getting a dog ?
I am not a dog person, but I've been coveting a chihuahua for so long now.
I know, I know... covet is the wrong word. It's a word used to describe a beautiful pair of boots or cashmere jumper, not a bloody dog. Dogs are for doggy people, right ? People who get up at 8 o clock on Sunday mornings and walk in the rain with a poop bag at the ready, before returning home and watching the poop maker leave zig zaggy muck marks all over the laminate.
A chihuahua is not a dog, however. It's more like a dependant cat, who doesn't wander off into neighbouring gardens never to be seen again. It's like a cat who actually loves you in a totally unconditional way, with blinding loyalty and stupid devotion. It's tiny, too. It wont eat lots and wont need exhausting long walks, unless I feel the urge to walk it for miles and miles.
Have I lost my mind ?