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!
Jan 15, 2012
Almost everyone’s familiar with the Tortoise and the Hare: that arrogant, got-it-all rabbit taunting the always-trudging turtle in a race to the finish. In the end of course is the predictable winner: the turtle. Why? Because he kept at it. Whereas the rabbit thought he was so far ahead he could chill out, relax, goof off. Well too much partying left him in the dust and that little turtle kept on trucking and made it through the challenges to cross that winning line first.
I think sometimes I’m that turtle. There are so many people that not only know what they want to be when they grow up, but have what they need to get there from the get-go. People my age have children (even grandchildren!). They’ve already had a 20-year career at something. They started young and zoomed ahead. Some will continue, but some will fall asleep at the wheel.
Then there’s me. I’ve always known I want to write. But I was pretty sure I also needed to pay the bills so those two tasks have been mutually exclusive.
Until now.
Because now I’m serious about writing. And being published. And supporting my family that way.
I’m taking baby steps. I’m learning my way. I’m stumbling a little but running a lot. And I don’t know where the finish line is. I just know I’m going to cross it.
Soon.
I have no regrets about waiting this long to even get into the race.
I’m just happy I get to finish this one… then move on to the next.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
Dec 20, 2011
The other day I was driving on Main Street when I came upon a slow moving car, following a slow bulldozer trying to make its way in traffic. The three of us, and others, stopped in line for a red light.
That’s when I saw it.
The license plate.
The vanity plate.
It wasn’t anything special. And it took me a moment to figure it out.
And then I realized. I’ve seen that plate before. On a different vehicle. Years ago.
And then I realized…
It must be driven by one of them. A member of that family; his family.
That license plate is a vanity plate belonging to the family of a former boyfriend.
And I’m driving right behind them.
Oh, joy.
It’s been about 15 years since I broke up with him and his family. And every now and then I see him about town. And every time, I get a little snobby. A little proud. A little taller. A little How Do You Like Me Now? attitude.
I know I shouldn’t. I know it’s vain. But let’s be real. If he was a keeper, I would have kept him. Right?
There’s a reason (or two… or ten) why that relationship ended, and I don’t for a moment miss it. I love the person I’ve become since then. But every now and then, I’m reminded that even I am capable of making really stupid choices.
The point is, to pick up and move on. And I’ve done that. Every now and then it’s okay to look back and see how far I’ve come, how I’ve changed, how I’ve grown.
But every now and then, I guess I get a little arrogant. I don’t mean to. But every now and then, I take a little pride that on those few-and-far-between days that he spies me out and about, I still look better than I did. I still stand up for myself, and am nobody’s doormat.
Most of all, the dreams we had 15 years ago… well, mine are coming true. And since he’s still in this general area, I know for a fact his are not.
The light turned green. And in that split-second writer’s inspiration that I get, I thought it was very apropo as I accelerated and drove around the slow moving, road-blocking tractor and car making their turn down another road.
Did they recognize me? I have no idea. I’m not one to keep looking in the rear-view mirror. I just prayed as I passed and happily thought There but for the Grace of God go I.
