Day 25 – Better 37 and Unemployed Than 21 and a Schmuck

On August 28th, my wife lost her job. 24 hours later, I lost mine. This blog is a continuation of the day-by-day chronicling of our emotional journey back to employment. This is bound to be upsetting, hilarious and hopeful.

Monday – September 22, 2014

I'm roughly 21 here. I'm being much more mysterious than is warranted.

I’m roughly 21 here. I’m being much more mysterious than is warranted.

Erin had an absolutely fantastic interview this morning with a local company. The position she applied for was entry level, but they took one look at her and her snazzy business-appropriate outfit and decided she might be a much better fit for the level above entry. Because these people are sane. We’ll see where it goes.

While Erin was having this success, I was with Violet at home when I got a call from my Sister-in-Law, Karen, about a friend of her’s looking for an Art Director for a company up in Northern California. I jumped on this one fast with an email and a sent Resume. An hour later I had a phone interview for tomorrow scheduled. Obviously, this is a perfect match and I’ll have the job by this time next week.

It feels like things are ramping up. Erin and I have both got so many different leads and they’re all rising at the same time. At some point, they’re either gonna crash into each other and we’ll have some hard decisions to make, or one of them is gonna break the surface of the water first and come out on top. The question isn’t: Will we find something? It’s: Which one of us gets a job first?

Oh, and there’s one other question: Where will we go?

Central California and everywhere else. These are the twin poles of our job hunt. I’ve known for the past 16 years of my professional career exactly what I was going to do and where I wanted to be. Now, everything is up in the air and there are moments when that’s more than a little disconcerting.

The last time I was this uncertain about the future and this unsettled in my life, I was a fresh-faced 21-year-old just home from his mission, trying to make a go of it with a Sister Missionary from that same mission, not looking for a job, and with absolutely no desire to attend college (while absolutely needing to).*

*There, now you don’t have to read the first five chapters of WORLDS APART.

Okay, when I write it all out like that I realize that I’m actually much better off today than I was back then. That guy–that young guy?–he was kind of a schmuck. He got stuck a lot. He was too hyper focused on what he couldn’t do. He had a self-punishing belief that he would never be good enough for anyone and always be alone. He was terrible at love, barely entering relationships before he either offended his way out of them or they ended with literal disasters. Like that one time with the car wreck.*

*Like I said, first five chapters.

This was taken earlier this year. Look at that confidence! That unshaven face!

This was taken earlier this year. Look at that confidence! That unshaven face!

I’m so very much not alone now. I’ve got a wife, and a fantastic one at that who has not left me after any of the times I wrecked or otherwise damaged the car. I’ve got three beautiful daughters. I’ve got amazing friends and a college degree. I’ve got a tried and tested Faith. I’ve got three pets, and only one of them pees on me with regularity. And, really, he’s doing a lot better. I’ve got brownies in the kitchen right now.

Basically–and I realize this is a recurring theme at this point (and it darn well better be)–I’ve got blessings. I may possibly be more blessed now than at any other time of my life. And I’m unemployed.

Go figure.

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5 comments

  1. The fact you can still make jokes is a good sign. About your dog, about your brownies, and about being able to look back at what you used to be like and how that even unemployed, you are in a far better position now than back then. They say laughter is the best medicine. I say good hearted laughter is the best medicine. One can laugh and all it does is demean someone. From your posts, it sounds very much like the laughter you’re experiencing has been good for your soul.

    Oh, brownies however isn’t a good thing to joke about, that and fudge. They solve many a problem. After my mom was discharged after she had me, she went home, made a batch of fudge. And then ate the whole thing in one setting. She felt better afterwards! Fat again perhaps, not healthy, definitely. But she did feel better!

    Any time my current situation starts to really get on me, I look back on where I was five to eight years ago. And my response, “My life was a wreck then. This is nothing in comparison. Now, lets see why it seems like its a wreck now.”

    Like

    1. I don’t think I would be able to process the world without some humor. However, I, like you, despise humor that cuts people down or makes them feel bad. Those jokes are only bad. Why I have no patience for roasts.

      Like

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