Allrighty then, the second month anniversary of my current unemployment situation passed with little fan-fare almost a week ago. No one threw a party, no one gave me a present, nobody outside my own body even seemed to care. So I thought I would take a bit of time on this cool evening, on the porch, with just the glow of my laptop and the snoring dogs to keep me company.
Number of days without job: 62 (9 weeks)
According to the wonderful people at the Bureau of Labor Statistics (man, and I used to think janitor was a bad job) a person is not considered to be in the category of the 'Long Term Unemployed' until you reach 27 weeks. So, while I'm not quite there yet, it doesn't seem that far off. It's a puzzlement to me that as a society we seem to value 'employment' as a validation of our existence, a way to define our worthiness to others, and to an extent our selves.... SO, why do we have programs which seem to put off helping people until they are in dire need?
NOTE: what appears below was added after I fell asleep peacefully on the front porch last night comforted by the sounds of spring in the city, birds, cars, motorcycles, sirens, thumping cadillacs, ah...city life.
Number of jobs applied for: 103 (91 on-line, 12 in person)
As I mentioned in earlier posts, the process of job hunting can be daunting, terrifying, embarassing, humiliating even. What I have further discovered about the process is that the actual response you get as a job hunter is tantamount to watching some one step in dog poop. There are three basic responses to the poop (job hunter) that is on the shoe (or door step) of the employer. First, the employer can step in it and keep on going - this by far the easiest this is the 'no response' method where you never hear anything at all. Second is the cursory glance that the employer gives upon realizing that he actually stepped in something, and yet he just keeps on going, this is the 'electronic form letter' method). Third, the inquisitive stepper. This employer actually stops to look at what he stepped in, might even swear at the inconvenience of the event, and after some examination finds something with which to scrape the offending substance (or applicant) from his shoe before moving on. This is the employer who will have his secretary call, or pen an actual letter that is sent in the mail informing you that you are not wanted.
The second two don't bother me near so much as the first one. I think that if a person takes the time to jump through the myriad of hoops to apply for a job - any job, the LEAST a company could to is send a letter....and in this letter they should be required BY LAW to tell you EXACTLY why you were not hired... Sometimes we forget that now more than ever employees can, in a few keystrokes find out nearly every thing about you -- stuff you may have never known, or even forgotten! So, with that kind of information, they should let you know why you were not chosen.
Number of cups of coffee consumed while trying to maintain my sanity: 240+/- (somedays are worse than others)
For those who know me, this is one of the things that is a 'normalizer' for me. I can handle almost any crisis, situation, disaster, pain, suffering, agony, defeat or other bad thing, if, somewhere along the way I can have cup or two of really good coffee.... Sometimes even awful coffee will fit the bill, if the company I am sharing it with is right too! I don't know why, but even when I have been up, depressed and heading for an interview for a job as a Truck Driver, Shipping Dock Clerk, Insurance Salesman (yuck!), Technology Coordinator or Fast Food Manager, (yes, these have all been done during this time) the simple act of making a fresh pot of coffee, taking the time to sit down with a cup before I leave some how armors my spirit for the next confrontation.
Currently, too, I have begun pursuing some work-from home efforts and I find that getting in the habit of starting the day with a fresh pot of coffee in my garage/office, somehow makes me fell human, worthy, important to a degree, and seems to help me get from one unemployed moment to the next.
Number of hours spent in the company of good friends: hmmm 100 or so maybe more
I cannot say it enough, and I am sure it is the same for many people in trying times, when it comes down to it, what matters is having people who are willing to listen...not necessarily to solve all the issues, but just to listen. I am convinced that one reason people 'go postal' is because they have no one who they think will listen to them. BELIEVE me that thought bounced around inside my skull like a B-B in a barrel many, many times in the last few months, and were it not for key people, I am sure you would have been reading about me in the paper. I feel it is important for them to know who they are...so bear with the list; Cheryl L. (of course!), Cam, Mal, Jim, Tim, Cyndi, Dave O., Dave G., Kristen D., Kristen W., Randy, Ken Z., Liz, Sarah, Paul, Olaf, Ryan, Jamie D., Josh W., Alex, Cheryl H., Tom, Jody, and not to forget the ever faithful Ginger, Hershey, Gypsy and even Gipper. Were it not for these folks, and other random people who were too kind to tell me to shut the hell up!
If I were to look into The Magic 8 Ball what would it say?: "Outlook unclear... Ask again later."
To summarize in 'Where am I now?' fashion I would say that I have made it to the point where I am hurt but not hurting, sad but not depressed, optimistic but not overconfident, still unsure about whether or not the light at the end of the tunnel is a train. I am sure of many things and uncertain of others. I am sure of the love of family, the support of friends, the need to be independent, the requirement to be a good role model, the necessity of being a provider and that the only way to get any where is to get up, dust-off and move on. Hopefully this journey will not continue too long, but even if it does, I know somehow I will not be allowed to pack it in and give up.
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