Maybe you hate to hear how I can relate, once again, but . . . I can relate (kind of) to how you are feeling.  Once upon a time, many years ago, I commuted a long, long, loooooooong way to work.  I was newly married and kept hoping to find a job closer to home so I could spend more time with hubby.  I got a break one day at a school system in a little podunk town, that would be a secretarial gig reporting to the superintendent.  Drove 90 minutes to get to the interview, interviewed flawlessly, was led to beglieve that I had a great chance, only to find out that "the girls in the office" were going to take a vote tomorrow to see whether they wanted me or their friend across the street from the courthouse who wasn't happy with her job to come and work with them.  Well, I had the vocabulary back then to say what I wanted to say (read that:  longshoreman), but I didn't have the internal strength to spit it out at the a**, um, let's just leave it at "chump, major."  You'll have to process your slow-burn, just to get it out of your system.  But, really, girlfriend, stand up, shake those snakes off of you, wipe the dust off your sandals, and get thee to a "new town," so to speak.  Man, I feel like driving up there tomorrow just to tell them all how I felt, because (sadly enough), I'm sure that most of them are probably in the same job.  I guess that's revenge enough, I just like to huff and puff once in awhile.  OK. Nuff said.  Ciao.