I am unemployed.
I am unemployed by choice.
I had a really tumultuous year last year that started off with some unexpected major surgery and ended with a death. Gets a person to thinking. I realized I hated my job. So I left. Life is too short.
I was waaaaaaa-y cocky about finding a job. Thought the perfect one would come to me. I am changing careers, not just job roles so I knew it might be a little tough, but nothing I couldn’t handle.
I watched the months race by and my savings dwindle. I finally signed on to unemployment, something I had planned not to do. I suddenly became the whiz around the house, doing all the little jobs, I said I would do. I took up knitting again. Became Miss Project. Anything to fill my time.
Anything to cover the growing ball of panic sitting in the bottom of my stomach, threatening to burst at any moment. Some deep breaths and a repetition of my mantra, ‘I can have a job I love, ‘ keep it down, when it threatens to rise. But it’s still there, getting bigger and bigger, more insistent each day.
It’s not like I’m a student. I have a mortgage and credit card bills and loans to pay. I really can’t afford to be unemployed much longer. I sacrificed my ‘Luxury Canadian Holiday’ for my decision (I have spent my holiday fund.) and sold almost all of my worldly possessions on ebay. I think I might have to crack into the a-ha collection soon and anyone who knows me, knows how desperate things must be if I’m contemplating THAT!
So when the call came today for an interview, the pressure, stress and tension lifted off me. I never realized just how worried I was. It’s a crappy job, doing crappy work, for crappy wages but it will keep the wolves at bay, while I figure out my next move.
Thank god for breathing space.
I suppose it is like the eternally-wise Quoda always says to me, ‘It’ll all work out in the end.’
Now, I just need to ace this interview!