I lost my job on February 3, 2009. Due to budget constraints, the position I held was eliminated. I can't believe it's been nearly four months and still no prospects on the horizon. I'm discovering I'm just not cut out for job hunting. Well, it's not a big revelation. I don't have much experience in that arena, preferring something just fall in my lap.
My work history isn't exactly an example of a highly motivated, career minded person. In high school I started a couple jobs just to quit a few weeks later. Work just cut into my social life. Not that I'm proud of that but it's the truth. In college I needed to provide my own spending money and took a work/study job through the university I attended. I can't say I was a stellar employee. Calling in sick was more than an occasional occurrence but probably a typical one for a college student.
Once I graduated it was imperative I find work to help pay the bills. It was the natural progression after graduation and I wanted to work, to feel grown up and have that extra money we so desperately needed. I also wanted to work somewhere really cool and so landed a job with a television station in the promotions department. I loved the job but still didn't really shine. I did what I had to do and was happy to leave at the end of the day. I ended up being fired when a new station manager was hired and brought along his own staff. It was devastating. I felt like I'd let myself and my husband down. Despite the fact that a fair number of people also lost their jobs, it still felt really, really embarrassing.
Soon after I discovered I was pregnant and began my years as an at-home mom. Now this was something I was good at. I have never been a lazy person, just someone who wants to manage their own life and to create the kind of balance that works for me and keeps me sane. I was my own boss and that suited just fine.
Truth is, bosses aren't my thing. I've always hated the feeling of someone having power over me- the power to tell you what to do, the power to evaluate your performance, the power to make your life miserable and most of all the power to change your life monetarily. So, stay at home I did for close to 15 years. Along the way I brought in extra cash through a variety of meaningless, sometimes humiliating jobs: stocking greeting cards, babysitting and making cold calls to hateful people. Because my heart was never in these jobs, once again I never excelled. But than again, if you ask me, who would want to?
Once my kids were in school I worked for the school system as a reading para. It wasn't a bad job. There were aspects I really enjoyed. In the mornings I left when my kids left and arrived home when they arrived home. I had the same holidays and summers off. It was a good transitional job for someone who had been out of the work force so long.
After a move to another city, I started working part time for the Big Brothers Big Sisters organization. I stayed for 8 years; moving from part time Case Manger to full time Program Director. Now this was a job I loved. I loved the mission, I loved my co-workers, I loved the job description and I loved the challenge. I blossomed and became a hard working, dedicated employee with definite gifts, of which I was proud. And, when it was time to move on I continued in the volunteer management field working for a global humanitarian organization that challenged me in ways I never even imagined. The biggest challenge was leading a group of doctors to the Central Asian country, Kyrgyzstan. Traversing the culture, the language, the egos of the volunteers and being away from home for nearly a month was mind blowing. I wasn't sure my middle aged body could keep up with my much younger co-worker but I did. For this I was proud and came home feeling like I could do anything.
And... then they eliminated my position and threw me to the world of the unemployed. At first I felt shock and dismay. Not only had I lost my job but now I had to do one of the things I hate most in the world- get a new job. Interviewing is so unnatural. You have to be so on, even if you've had a crummy day, even if you aren't particularly interested in the position, even if you just aren't connecting with the person doing the hiring. I don't generally get too nervous. I think that's because I really believe I'm a catch and if these stupid people don't see it that way, that's their problem. See - not a good attitude. But, once again they have the power...
And I hate the fakeness of the whole thing. While on the outside I'm smiling and touting my virtues, on the inside I'm scrutinizing the physical work place, the interviewer, the atmosphere, the job description, the culture. More often than not they fall far short of what I am looking for. Yet the very nature of the situation requires me to act as though I would just love to work for you and your wonderful organization. Usually I leave thinking I did a good job. I looked great, I'm very qualified.They'd be crazy not to hire me. I've worked long enough with all ages to know that hiring someone older and settled with a strong work ethic should be an employer's dream. Well, it should be but the competition is fierce right now and you have to be the cream of the crop to get a lousy low paying, work your ass off job. Afterwards, you wait for the call. The call that in this economic climate rarely comes.
In the meantime, I feel the guilt of the unemployed. Guilt that I'm not contributing monetarily, guilt that I'm not working while my husband does, guilt that I lost my job... So, what do I do? Overcompensate, by getting the house in shape, finally completing those projects you just don't have time to when you work, taking on household tasks that have never been my responsibility- like mowing. I think I've mowed maybe 4 times in almost 30 years of marriage. Now I do it more often than not. Weirdly I like it. I like all the physical things I am doing around the house that I left to my husband. I've actually lost weight just being productive at home. All those hours spent each day at a desk doesn't help with the pounds. I exercise more, I help my kids with their projects. I am entirely accessible to my extended family. It feels great to be able to help, to have the time to help and not be doing it grudgingly after a long day at the office.
I could get use to this life. I love puttering around my house, moving at a slower pace, lunching with friends, answering email promptly, reading more, watching movies, staying up late and sleeping in. Problem is, always in the back of my head is this thought, "I've got to get a job."
So... each morning starts with perusing job sites. Weekends end with filing my unemployment claim and as each week passes and I get more and more accustomed to this new way of living, I realize how hard it's going to be to do the 9-5 thing again and I wake up slightly panicked knowing that a new job is looming. It's not a choice. I have to get a job... Guilt, Panic, Anxiety.
Then a glimmer of hope- maybe I'll win the lottery, maybe one of my money making schemes will come to fruition, maybe my husband will get a huge promotion, maybe, maybe...
Whatever... I've got to get a job. Crap.
VSL
Monday, May 18, 2009
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Death of a pet
Two days ago I found our 12-year-old, Cairn Terrier, dead. It didn't come as a complete shock. She had been slowing down recently, having trouble on long walks, breathing rapidly and suffering a recurring problem with tooth decay. But... it was still a shock. Luring her downstairs in the mornings to go outside was getting harder and harder. I usually had to resort to treats. Clancy loved two things more than anything in the world (including us), food and walks. When she didn't come at the shake of the treat bag, I went up. She'd pooped on the carpet and was lying just inside one of our spare bedrooms. Instantly, I knew she was gone but called her name several times.
What is it about death that causes fear? I felt fearful to touch her, fearful to look into her eyes, to get too close. However, I did need to confirm her death and so poked a toe at her still body. Then came the panicked call to my husband, calls to inform our kids and finally a blanket to cover her body.
My husband left work to come and dispose of her and one of our daughters left work to come too. I was surprised by this, telling her it wasn't necessary. She insisted and told me later that her boss was an animal lover and told her to "take all the time she needed." I had to laugh at that. While I appreciate animal lovers and consider myself one, I don't rate my animals anywhere close to my people. I've seen friends and family go to extreme and costly measures to save a dying pet and pretty much know I wouldn't do that. Well, I say that...
Yet, we are pet people. Always have been. At the time of Clancy's death, we had four- two cats and two dogs. We got our first dog two weeks after we married and have had at least two pets ever since. I can't imagine a house without them, yet I truly get why people don't have them. They vomit, poop, chew, whine, bark, get sick, cost money, shed, tear things up, and the list goes on. Some days after dealing with an in and out meowing cat, pee in an upstairs bedroom, hair everywhere and cat vomit on my new sofa; I don't even understand why I have them. Yet, I can't imagine not having a pet in my home. I love to see a cat curled up in a pool of sunshine and I love the affection only a dog can show you. I laugh at their antics and appreciate the opportunity to care for them, to provide them a home and food and touch.
To make matters even more fuzzy, we have a favored pet. Her name is Bella. She's a three-year-old rescue dog and we adore her. She is the first among all our pets that we've been this nuts about. I think it's partly because Bella came to us at a time of stress in our lives and she helped us through it. But mostly I think it's because Bella is almost human-like with her affection. She literally tries to wrap her arms around you in a hug, she smiles, she loves you with such devotion it brings a lump to your throat. Bella is timid and afraid of men. It's endearing the way she clings close to us like a five-year-old not wanting to leave their mommy's side, when a stranger comes too close. We're her protectors and she trusts us completely. Bella is simply the sweetest, most enchanting dog we've ever had.
On the other hand, Clancy was always quirky, not terribly affectionate and in her later years, very, very stinky. She had recurring tooth decay and her breath could fill a room. I cared for her gladly with the obligation that comes from committing to a pet but I completely admit to not feeling the level of affection for her that I do for Bella. So it came as a surprise how emotional I felt when she died.
There was the actual physical shock of finding her dead, the tears and the feelings of regret that maybe we should have taken her to our vet. And later, the three of us petting her still body, saying goodbye, and telling her she was a "good doggie." We took her collar off and I hung it in the garage with another collar from a long ago pet. My husband and daughter took her to be cremated while I stayed home. I wandered from room to room seeing her in all her favorite spots and, several times, found myself looking at the spot where she last lay. She's my screen saver now; looking up at the camera with a ring of snow around her mouth and nose, dark eyes shining brightly. I'm not sure how I feel two days later. I know I'm not grieving for her in a deep and despairing way. Yet, I do find myself thinking of her and her life and what she brought to our family.
So... another pet gone. And like all of them, Clancy was part of our family history. She came to us as a tiny, little puppy when all our kids were still at home. Specially chosen and longed for by our middle child. Over the 30 years of our marriage, other pets have come and gone and I realize how they have been such an integral part of our family and tracing them traces our history. Like the Brittany Spaniel we got at four months old, at a time when I had three small children and no patience for an exuberant, peeing, chewing puppy. I think I called her "stupid dog" the first couple years of her life. And, our first dog... Just two weeks married I wanted a dog despite the fact we lived in a tiny apartment. Years later, Bruno was lost one Christmas while visiting my parents. He never came home. We had an ice storm that night and felt despairing that he was out in it. There was Max, known best for the world's smelliest farts. We had to give him away when our first daughter was born and he got aggressive around her. Fortunately, we found a loving family. We wondered how long until the farting would begin and if they would bring him back. Then, there are the cats. I won't go into their histories. Suffice it to say that I am the cat lover in the family and if not for me, I doubt there would be any.
Yes, we are definitely pet people. I know we will always have an animal in our home and will remember every one of them.
VSL
What is it about death that causes fear? I felt fearful to touch her, fearful to look into her eyes, to get too close. However, I did need to confirm her death and so poked a toe at her still body. Then came the panicked call to my husband, calls to inform our kids and finally a blanket to cover her body.
My husband left work to come and dispose of her and one of our daughters left work to come too. I was surprised by this, telling her it wasn't necessary. She insisted and told me later that her boss was an animal lover and told her to "take all the time she needed." I had to laugh at that. While I appreciate animal lovers and consider myself one, I don't rate my animals anywhere close to my people. I've seen friends and family go to extreme and costly measures to save a dying pet and pretty much know I wouldn't do that. Well, I say that...
Yet, we are pet people. Always have been. At the time of Clancy's death, we had four- two cats and two dogs. We got our first dog two weeks after we married and have had at least two pets ever since. I can't imagine a house without them, yet I truly get why people don't have them. They vomit, poop, chew, whine, bark, get sick, cost money, shed, tear things up, and the list goes on. Some days after dealing with an in and out meowing cat, pee in an upstairs bedroom, hair everywhere and cat vomit on my new sofa; I don't even understand why I have them. Yet, I can't imagine not having a pet in my home. I love to see a cat curled up in a pool of sunshine and I love the affection only a dog can show you. I laugh at their antics and appreciate the opportunity to care for them, to provide them a home and food and touch.
To make matters even more fuzzy, we have a favored pet. Her name is Bella. She's a three-year-old rescue dog and we adore her. She is the first among all our pets that we've been this nuts about. I think it's partly because Bella came to us at a time of stress in our lives and she helped us through it. But mostly I think it's because Bella is almost human-like with her affection. She literally tries to wrap her arms around you in a hug, she smiles, she loves you with such devotion it brings a lump to your throat. Bella is timid and afraid of men. It's endearing the way she clings close to us like a five-year-old not wanting to leave their mommy's side, when a stranger comes too close. We're her protectors and she trusts us completely. Bella is simply the sweetest, most enchanting dog we've ever had.
On the other hand, Clancy was always quirky, not terribly affectionate and in her later years, very, very stinky. She had recurring tooth decay and her breath could fill a room. I cared for her gladly with the obligation that comes from committing to a pet but I completely admit to not feeling the level of affection for her that I do for Bella. So it came as a surprise how emotional I felt when she died.
There was the actual physical shock of finding her dead, the tears and the feelings of regret that maybe we should have taken her to our vet. And later, the three of us petting her still body, saying goodbye, and telling her she was a "good doggie." We took her collar off and I hung it in the garage with another collar from a long ago pet. My husband and daughter took her to be cremated while I stayed home. I wandered from room to room seeing her in all her favorite spots and, several times, found myself looking at the spot where she last lay. She's my screen saver now; looking up at the camera with a ring of snow around her mouth and nose, dark eyes shining brightly. I'm not sure how I feel two days later. I know I'm not grieving for her in a deep and despairing way. Yet, I do find myself thinking of her and her life and what she brought to our family.
So... another pet gone. And like all of them, Clancy was part of our family history. She came to us as a tiny, little puppy when all our kids were still at home. Specially chosen and longed for by our middle child. Over the 30 years of our marriage, other pets have come and gone and I realize how they have been such an integral part of our family and tracing them traces our history. Like the Brittany Spaniel we got at four months old, at a time when I had three small children and no patience for an exuberant, peeing, chewing puppy. I think I called her "stupid dog" the first couple years of her life. And, our first dog... Just two weeks married I wanted a dog despite the fact we lived in a tiny apartment. Years later, Bruno was lost one Christmas while visiting my parents. He never came home. We had an ice storm that night and felt despairing that he was out in it. There was Max, known best for the world's smelliest farts. We had to give him away when our first daughter was born and he got aggressive around her. Fortunately, we found a loving family. We wondered how long until the farting would begin and if they would bring him back. Then, there are the cats. I won't go into their histories. Suffice it to say that I am the cat lover in the family and if not for me, I doubt there would be any.
Yes, we are definitely pet people. I know we will always have an animal in our home and will remember every one of them.
VSL
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
My First Blog
I've been meaning to do this for a very long time. Since I was a little girl, writing has been an outlet for me. I use writing to express extreme emotions, to relay my feelings, to convey a message and to organize my life. For some time now, I've known that I need to organize my thoughts and write on a regular basis. Creating a blog is the perfect venue to accomplish this goal.
So, here I am with a million thoughts running through my head and my hands eager to press the keys and let it all explode out of me. And, of course, therein lies the crux of the matter. I must write real truths, not gloss over the truth in fear of my husband or my children or my parents or my friends reading it. If I am going to do this, it must by how I really feel, how I really see it- as unflattering as that may be.
Will I let those closest to me know about this site? Honestly, I don't know. I've always hidden a part of me and to expose that part of me might be more than I am willing to do. But for today I will simply start and tomorrow I will begin moving through my lists of topics and allow anyone who finds this to know the real truths about me and about my life.
VSL
So, here I am with a million thoughts running through my head and my hands eager to press the keys and let it all explode out of me. And, of course, therein lies the crux of the matter. I must write real truths, not gloss over the truth in fear of my husband or my children or my parents or my friends reading it. If I am going to do this, it must by how I really feel, how I really see it- as unflattering as that may be.
Will I let those closest to me know about this site? Honestly, I don't know. I've always hidden a part of me and to expose that part of me might be more than I am willing to do. But for today I will simply start and tomorrow I will begin moving through my lists of topics and allow anyone who finds this to know the real truths about me and about my life.
VSL
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