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.
Tuesday – September 23, 2014
Big stuff this morning as I had my phone interview for the job up in Northern California. That’s the second phone interview I’ve had since this all started and I think I’m getting better at this as it goes on. Felt a bit tongue tied here and there, but it seemed to go well overall and it’s looking good for moving on to the next step. Would be a dream to work for them.
Crazy thing: just an hour before the interview I got a lead on another job in Maryland that is another just flat-out amazing opportunity. I think it would be bad form to say exactly what any of these jobs are at this point, but I sure wish I could.
And I wasn’t the only one to interview today–Erin had one this morning as well and it went quite well. I think we’d be shocked if there isn’t some sort of follow-up or offer or something from them.
Unlike Erin, all of my best leads are coming from other people, not from applications I’m filling out and sending into the ether. I have to think–because I do that sometimes when I’ve had enough sleep and Vitamin C–that this blog is no small contributor to my ability to acquire these leads in the first place. Typically, when a tragedy occurs, people rush to you to comfort, console and support. This is one of the big benefits of having friends and family, and it’s the kind of support we need in hard times. But not all hard times end as quickly as that support often fades. It’s not that people are cruel or don’t care anymore, it’s just that other troubles or needs or their own concerns rise up, and it can be easy to forget or think that the suffering family is no longer in as much trouble or has as much need (which can often seem especially true when that family is receiving so much help and assistance from others in the first place). This blog seems to help make it so that, rather than just forget about us, we’re present in people’s minds and they understand the reality of the situation without us having to explain it over and over again. That would make this blog effective enough in and of itself, but the other, bigger bonus is that we’re present in people’s minds enough so that when they stumble upon a potential opportunity, they remember us. Next thing you know, an interview gets set up.
In a very real way, the single best decision I made on the day I was let go was to immediately start writing about it.
I’ve talked about this before, but really the worst thing you can do in a situation like ours is to shut up about it. We’ve got an innate need to share, and I think not sharing this struggle in this way would have been not only suffocating for me, but also would have simply gone against how things are supposed to work.
We are supposed to share one another’s burdens, but if I don’t tell you about my burden, then how are you supposed to share it? You can’t, so I’ve got just as much a responsibility here as you do. That is actually a very hard thing to wrap my brain around because my inclination (despite all evidence to the contrary) is to hide my burdens and deal with them myself. I don’t want to be a burden, so that’s something I have to actively fight against. This blog is how I fight it.
If I see someone in trouble and I can help, then I will. If you see me in trouble and you can help, then you do that. This is very simple stuff, but it’s important stuff. We share because it’s important to share. It’s maybe the most important thing because it is quite simply the most Christlike thing we can do. He took on the ultimate burden by paying the price for our sins, but he spent years beforehand exploring and understanding those sins and the great weights we all carry. He allowed us to share with him, and then he shared every part of himself with us.
Sharing is how we connect with others, it’s how we learn from each other, it’s how we help each other, it’s how we know we’re not alone. It is, ultimately, how we eschew selfishness.
Again, this is very simple stuff.