Nov 9, 2012 |
What a different a week makes.
Fridays are quickly becoming my favorite day of the week. This Friday, in particular, is one that I intend to treasure and enjoy.
Two weeks ago I bared my soul to God. One week ago I wrote about it. Today, I’m banking my first paycheck in a year and a half.
It’s small. My first three days’ worth of work. But it’s so much more than that.
It’s a purpose. A taxable contribution to society. A means to an end. I get to socialize, help people, crunch numbers, work with computers, and have a reason to get up in the mornings besides seeing Dot off into the world.
I bought a new dress. And knee boots. I realized, as I donned my new outfit Thursday morning, that I’ve not worn a skirt in three years.
In The Store
I’ve lost a little weight since summer. I wasn’t overweight to begin with, but the few pounds that have dropped have made wearing skirts and short hair more fun. And those boots?! Lemme tell ya, these boots were made for walkin’! [That’s right… I went there.]
I’m walking out of the dark, into the light. I’m walking toward self-sufficiency. I still have a long, rocky, and sometimes very narrow road in front of me. But I’m walking. With a smile on my face. And earned income in my wallet.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
Nov 2, 2012 |
Today, for the first time in so very long, I am breathing a bit better than I have. Today (Thursday), I received a call I’ve been waiting for: I start a new job on Monday. I went to the office today to sign documents and pick up the Office Manual to re-introduce myself to the work.
The work itself is insignificant for the purpose of this post. What is important, is that I am finding my footing somewhere between elation and anxiety. I’m not one to publicly display my fears any deeper than voicing a minor concern. And there are circumstances that prevent me from divulging certain aspects of what has been going on around here.
I lost my job on Monday, July 11, 2011. Since then, we (myself, Dot, and the rest of my family) have struggled with keeping the household running. Struggle is a good word, yet not good enough. There have been many times I felt strangled. Many times I felt the cosmos was playing dice with my life. I am thankful this last season did not include any health ailments or accidents, as I’m prone to collect those like baseball cards every few years.
It’s not been easy. And unless you truly are in the midst of poverty, you can’t understand what it’s like. There are many jobs I can’t do. Not won’t do. Can’t do. Through no fault of my own, I’ve been in ten car accidents in 25 years. These have left me with consistent left hip, back and neck muscle/tendon issues. On a good day, I can walk. I can’t ever run. And on a bad day, I can barely get out of bed. Applying for a part-time cashier or retail position has never been an option for me.
There’s a common perception with employers that if you’ve been unemployed for any length of time, it must mean your unemploy-able. For over a year, I’ve been able to land many interviews. I just haven’t landed the jobs.
This last month was the hardest. I found myself trying to make such decisions as what to sell and when to sell it. Whether or not I should move, and if so, where? Michigan keeps calling me back. But so does Minnesota. I’ve always wanted to live in New York. Or just down the street.
There’s only so many ways a person can cook white rice without getting tired of it. There’s only so many times I can rake the leaves off the dirt yard to stay busy. There’s only so much pain a person can take.
Last Friday I couldn’t even get out of bed. I rolled over after Dot said goodbye on her way to college. When I knew the house was empty and no one could hear me but God and the cats, I screamed. I screamed loud and long and then I screamed some more. I thought it might help, but it didn’t. So I sobbed.
I’ve been exhausted for months, hiding behind this facade of a happy person fully trusting in God to take care of us.There’s a difference between being taken care of and barely getting by. I thought perhaps I’d reached the end of what I could take. And I sobbed even more.
I can’t fix the noisy toilets without help. I can’t pay for help. If something happens to the car, we can’t afford to fix it. I have to choose between cat litter and a gallon of milk. It will take more than a few months to repair my credit. I’ve made my payments, but not always on time. And as soon as I get fully current on my bills, something has happened to upset that apple cart. Sometimes it was just life getting in the way. Sometimes it was bureaucracy.
I can’t explain the agony that comes with poverty. How painful it is to choose between driving to a friend’s house or saving the gas for church. Some friends stopped calling. But others have blessedly been a great source of comfort and dialogue. It’s not fun having to refuse invitations to go out because I can’t afford it; but neither is always being the Charity Project of the week.
I’ve been labeled. That’s the worst. There are people I know/knew, who have labeled me as Unemployed. Emotional. Needy. Without truly finding the depths of me, they have labeled me with names that scream Poverty. Poor. and Problematic. I’ve been unable to reach out to those I once trusted, because they see me now as only a financial burden or emotional wreck.
I have lost the ability to be ME.
I’ve done my best to keep these influences away from Dot. Of course she understands we’re in dire straits. She’s well aware that there’s not as much food in the pantry as there used to be. But she’s in college. She’s driving herself around town. Her happy life is just beginning, and I won’t let this negative season weigh her down any more than it absolutely has to.
And I feel guilty. Oh-so-guilty. Because I’m alive. And my friend’s brother isn’t. Because I’m healthy, and a girl just had life-changing surgery. Because I still have a roof over my head, gas in the car, a very smart, dedicated, healthy, Godly daughter, a wonderful relationship with my family and many friends. And I’m tired of eating rice.
Last Friday, I sobbed and screamed for hours, until I exhausted myself enough to just be quiet. I was too tired to even sleep.
And here it is, six days later, and I’m okay. We’re okay. We’re gonna be okay.
I woke up this morning not knowing what the day, week, or month would bring. Not knowing if the child support would be paid. Not knowing how these bills will be taken care of. And something happened.
I had no more money in my account than I did yesterday. The bills still aren’t paid. But I was breathing. I was awake. Healthy. Sheltered.
And today I understand the meaning of Daily Bread.
God doesn’t care that my bills aren’t paid. He cares about me.
It doesn’t matter that it’s rice we’re eating. Because we’re eating. It doesn’t matter that the child support stopped. Because we’re gonna be self sufficient.
It doesn’t matter why I haven’t worked for so long. Because I finally have a job.
I’m so afraid it won’t last. I’m so concerned the economy will continue to fall or even stagnate and I will once again find myself back here.
What matters is that we’re still breathing. And we’re still together. I didn’t have to choose between my daughter in California or a job in the Midwest. I’ll be back on my feet in a month or so. And I’ll be okay.
For all I’ve gone through; for a better understanding of those who truly struggle with poverty; and for the blessing of a new job,
THANK GOD IT’S FRIDAY.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
This post has been linked up with Shell at Things I Can’t Say for POUR YOUR HEART OUT
Aug 3, 2012 |
Writing is what I do best. It doesn’t always show through on my blog (although I want it to!), but I write every day. And when I give it my all, it shows.
But it still doesn’t pay the bills. Yet.
I love that word, yet.
And I know that someday, my writing will have yet another Big Before and After moment. I’m just not there…
Yet.
It’s been over a year since I lost my job, and in my human nature, I tend to get down and negative about the way of the world. I try not to, but hit after hit and sometimes I don’t handle it well.
My friend Wendy sent me this great email a few days ago: “I’m so proud of you and all your hard work while you’re out of work!!” She knows how to look on the bright side of things, and boost my spirits!
So I keep writing. I keep holding on, hoping that things will get better. I know they will. They just haven’t…
Yet.
And then I saw this on Pinterest.
And I applied.
And now I’m waiting.
Waiting to hear if I’m the lucky recipient of a $1,000 Blog Scholarship. I’ve so many ideas for building my blog, if only I had more funding. This could be the start.
And even if I don’t win, I’m glad that I entered. Their questions are thought provoking and helped me to verbalize what I want for my blog and how I intend to accomplish my goals.
If you won $1,000 to start up or maintain a blog, what would you do with it?
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
This post is linked up with “What’s the Word?” Wednesdays
Jan 23, 2012 |
I still don’t have a day job. It’s been just over six months since my boss decided he couldn’t afford to keep me. And since I don’t publicly vent, that’s all you get on that subject.
I’ve been unemployed before. I’m a legal secretary. A licensed insurance agent. I’ve worked for large corporations and sole practitioners. I’m excellent at sales, customer service, administrative duties and, no surprise, communications.
But I can’t seem to find a job. So I’m praying for income. Which is not the same thing.
A job is something you do to earn a paycheck. Income is money you earn. A job typically requires you to put forth constant effort. Income can be residual funds after the effort has been completed.
I want to provide for my family through income. And I’d of course love for that income to come through writing and publishing. Of course, for me, that would be an ongoing effort. I could pick and choose which hours of the day to work. I could work Saturday at midnight or 6 a.m. on Tuesday. As one effort pays off, I could be working on the next. A regular office job doesn’t offer that flexibility. But it does offer stability (or so it should). I’m willing, and looking for, any kind of income/job that will accomplish my financial tasks.
I’d love to have a savings account again some day. I’d love to take a real vacation again this year. Those things don’t look too promising, right now. But I figure as long as each month I can take care of my mortgage, car payment, utilities, fuel, and groceries… anything else is a bonus.
I’ve been blessed to be able to use this time to head toward that goal. I’m working on the final drafts of the Unemployment Cookbook. Megan and I have ideas to grow our one story into at least a nine-book series. And my house gets cleaner and more organized every week.
I’ve spent this time learning: Learning discipline to sit and write. To cook better. To take care of myself and family better. To clean and not let things stockpile. Learning what works for me and my household, and what doesn’t. Learning to learn: researching recipes and writings and crafts and any- and every-thing that needs researching.
I’ve spent this time developing my drive: Driving around town to accomplish errands. Spending quality time with friends and volunteering my abilities to help when I can. Developing that inner drive that pushes me to accomplish goals instead of keeping them on the To-Do List.
And I’ve spent this time enjoying this time. Not having a paycheck is stressful, but it doesn’t mean my entire life is. I’ve enjoyed having coffee at Mom’s nearly every morning. I like the quiet time I have in the middle of the day with my Bible. I look forward to being creative with whatever foods are already in my pantry.
I may be unemployed; but I am certainly not out of work.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
