Employment Means Grooming!

Settling back into a work routine has been amazingly easy. It's like riding a bike. After ten months out of work you'd think it would take some adjustment but the work systems I had in place prior to my lay-off have returned seamlessly. I've only been back three weeks and already those months off seem like a long lost dream. The one thing I didn't take into consideration as I prepared to return to the workplace was the grooming- day in, day out- you gotta look good! Well, at least clean and appropriate.

Women have it so much harder then men. Not in all cases, but most. Definitely in mine. Craig doesn't even have hair. When we travel, he needs a razor, deodorant and toothpaste. I have an arsenal of product I can't seem to live without. It's ridiculous- this quest to look good. And... it gets harder the older you get.

So now I am back at work and I have to groom EVERY DAY. For some this might not be an issue, but I am truly a closet slob. When I come home at the end of the day (and this was even in office environments where jeans were acceptable), I change into my favorite, softest, oldest clothes. In the summer this attire includes stretched out, faded t-shirts and drawstring shorts and in the winter faded almost to gray, black sweats and layers of long sleeved t- shirts and fleece. All of which are so old I can't recall when they were purchased and many of which have some kind of permanent stain.

While they are clean, they are not meant for viewing by anyone but my closest family. It took me awhile to even feel comfortable being seen in my "home attire" by my son-in-law. Yeah, it's that bad. Sadly, I began to feel so comfortable in these clothes that when I was living in the alternate universe of the unemployed, I did sometimes run a quick errand in said apparel. I'd think, "I'll be in and out, why change?" The entire time I'd pray I wouldn't run into anyone I know. I never did. I guess they were all working. You can get away with a lot during traditional work hours.

Interestingly, I do like fashion. Always have. In my teen years, I always wanted to be the first to wear the latest thing. This continued into my adult life. I like to look stylish. So, you would think dressing up would be a treat. And, it is occasionally, but this every day stuff is already getting old.

I'm anal about work clothes prep. I lay my clothes out the night before. I do this at the end of the day as I am changing into my home clothes. Not only do I choose my outfit, but I lay out all the accessories. This includes: jewelry, foot wear, scarves, etc. Doing this really does save me making decisions in the morning. It also allows me to grab a few more minutes of sleep. Very, very rarely do I change my mind about my chosen attire. What I lay out is what I wear. I even think down the road about apparel. If I know there is a specific activity coming up that requires
dressing up or down, I plan ahead.

In addition to clothing, I have to think ahead about my hair. I wear it curly. Curly means you have to let it dry naturally or it's just a big frizz ball. I wash my hair every other day- thank God. So hair washing day means getting up earlier. I love days I don't wash my hair. That means a pony tail. On those days I can literally do my hair in about 10 seconds. Hallelujah! 15-20 more minutes of sleep!

I do wear make-up but I have that routine down to a science. Takes about 2 minutes (maybe). Again, I forego make-up when I don't leave the house. In my period of unemployment, there were a lot of days I didn't leave the house. Glorious days of no make-up, my old, familiar clothing and hair in a pony.

I mourn those days already and fantasize about the day I no longer have to groom daily. I seriously think that when I retire I will be one of those women whose daughters shake their heads and say, "Mom, you can't go out like that."

I can't wait...

VSL

Life Changes

We got the call in the wee hours Monday morning that my Uncle Jack had died. It wasn't a great surprise, we knew the end was near. In recent days every time the phone rang, my heart would skip a beat and I'd think... is this the call? When it did actually ring, the hour was early enough that I knew no respectful person would be calling, meaning it could only be bad news. I knew, of course, what this call meant before I even opened my eyes. Coincidentally, this call came on the first day of a new job. A job that came to me after 10 long, long months. Death is funny like that. It doesn't wait until it's convenient. Death arrives in its time, with no consideration for others.

Honestly, between new job nerves and the early hour call with the terrible news, I really thought I might vomit from anxiety. I hated that I couldn't realistically go to the far away funeral. I felt torn. One week earlier and I would have been there in a heartbeat but I couldn't quite imagine asking for time off from my first week in a new job- a job that took so long to come my way.

I must digress...

It's amazing to me that I haven't found the time to write about this exciting change in my life. After 9 months of daily searches for the right job, nine excruciating job interviews and a harrowing week waiting for a phone call that would put me back in the work force, the call finally came. It was the job I wanted. It came a week later then I was told to expect to hear from them. I was in quite the gloomy state of mind, certain someone else had received MY call. I tried to tell myself it went to someone more deserving, maybe a single mom with four kids unsure where the next meal was coming from. It didn't really help but, hey, I needed somehow to accept I'd failed again.

And then the call came. It was just the best news. Right up there with those kind of calls that let you know someone is getting married, or having a baby or just got a huge promotion. It was one of those kind of calls. I was just ecstatic.

My start date wasn't scheduled until after Thanksgiving, giving me a week and a half to fit in all those things I would no longer be able to do- stay up late, watch terrible Lifetime movies, read in the middle of the day, lunch with friends, celebrate with family and enjoy the Thanksgiving holiday. I soaked it all up, knowing I would soon be back to accruing time off.

All the while I was so grateful. Grateful that not only did I finally land a job but this was THE job- working for an organization I believe in, great hours, better pay then I expected, a short drive from my house. It was all I had hoped for. I can't tell you how many people, over these past months, told me, "The right job just hasn't come along." I scoffed. What did they know? They had jobs. They didn't know what it was like looking in this economy.

Know what? I think maybe they were right. I half expected I would end up in some job that I hated but was necessary for our financial survival. Yet, I kept holding out hope I'd end up somewhere I wanted to be, doing what I wanted to do. To tell the truth, I really didn't want a single other job I had applied for. I wanted this one. So... unlike past jobs I was more excited then nervous. I was looking forward to it. Ten months out of work is plenty of time off. Plenty of time to reach a frame of mind that allows you to really want to get back to work.

Which brings me back to the present...

Today ends my official first week of work. With all the happy anticipation, I'd forgotten how hard those first days and weeks are. It is just flat overwhelming. You have to learn the people, their names, their titles. You have to determine the hierarchy, the departments, your physical surroundings and how to navigate your computer, set up your phone. Then there is the most insidious aspect- figuring out the culture and the office politics. And, of course, you've got to learn the job. Where to start? It feels like too much. Your head spins. It makes your brain tired. It makes your body tired. You find yourself floundering and feeling terribly inadequate. I told Craig last night, "I think I way oversold myself." First days in a new job are lonely.

But... this I know. It will get better. All new jobs start out hard and eventually you figure it out and things improve and with that comes peace of mind. I remind myself that I have ALWAYS learned my job. I have ALWAYS been a devoted employee. I have ALWAYS made close friends in the workplace. For my personal comfort, it is vital to me that I find that one person (at least one), that person I trust, the one I can vent to, the one who shares workplace information (I hesitate to use the word gossip), the one I can turn to when I am feeling baffled, when I'm feeling down. The one who cares who Vicky is. I won't feel entirely comfortable until this person is found.

I remember so clearly the first friend I made in my last job. I was a few weeks into it, still struggling, when something very unusual happened at our staff meeting. I think my mouth was hanging open when I looked up and saw a co-worker wink at me. That was it. I was in her office with the door shut by that afternoon and we remain friends until this day. And, the job before that, I had my soda break friend. Those breaks were essential to our sanity. She, too, remains a dear friend.

I have faith this job will be all I want it to be. I have faith I will connect with my co-workers. But most of all I have faith this will be my last job, 'cause it damn well better be. I am NOT going through this again.

Each day I become more comfortable in my new work environment. Today brought a couple real conversations. I created a timeline that eased my unease. I focused on priorities and learned a little bit more.

And, all the while, as I was trying to focus on the job at hand, I imagined my family laying Uncle Jack to rest. Today was his memorial service and I heard it was magnificent. Jack's career as a professor at his local university, combined with 40 years spent in the same small, West Virginia town drew a crowd. Five loved ones spoke, including my father. The church was full and while I celebrated small workplace victories, my family celebrated the life of my dear Uncle Jack. Oh, how I wish I'd been there. Life can just be so complicated.

Through all of this, here is what I know:

Change is a constant. I will survive this job. And, while my new life change in no way compares to my Aunt Judy's, she will survive her loss and we will both be surrounded with love and support. LIFE will go on.

I can do this, I can do this.

VSL