Thankfully, I’m experienced in the ways of the unemployed
because it just happened again. Believe me, my first response was, “Lord, I’m
getting too old for this shit.”
I kept that
to myself, however, when they took me downstairs away from everyone else to
tell me my job was being “eliminated.” I’ve never liked that word. It sounds a
lot like getting rid of something distasteful. Like waste or vomit or
something. So, I just sort of sat there wondering how I was going to drive home
and tell my husband. I've always left a job on my terms. I’ve never been eliminated before.
My husband
was a champ. He said all the right things like he’ll be glad I’m home so he can
see more of me. Don’t be hasty. File for unemployment and relax for a little
while. Now I can help him with his upholstery work. I shouldn’t feel bad; it’s
not my fault. He loves me. We’ll be fine.
Believe me,
I was grateful for that reaction. Deep down I know he’s right and this time
could be really crucial in my life. Maybe it’s time I went in a completely
different direction. Working at newspapers is precarious for just about anyone
these days. Why not change it up?
Besides, even
when I’m employed I still scour help wanted ads. I just like reading all the
possibilities. It’s a little different now, though. Now I’m reading them pretty
closely.
It’s sort
of hilarious when I think about how I approach the classified section.
I’ll see a
position for a dog groomer and think to myself, “I could do that.” Or for a
phlebotomist and I’ll wonder, “Hmm, they make decent money. Maybe I should
apply. Working at a hospital would probably be a smart idea.” And then I
remember that you first have to be trained before you stick needles into people.
Or I see an ad for a chef and think, “I’m pretty good in the kitchen. Everybody
likes my roasted Brussels sprouts. I should go down there and apply.”
This time
around, I hope to find a job that means something, a job where I feel really
fulfilled at the end of the day. Something where I actually help people. I
think that’s what I’d like. Of course, I won’t make a cent from this imaginary
job because why would I start that now? Besides, I think the job I just
described sounds like being a parent and I’m already employed in that field.
For the
immediate future, I’m going to take a walk and go to the library. I’m going to
make myself a really good sandwich for lunch and then I’m going to call a
friend. I might even take a really hot, long bath with a glass of wine. And
then I’ll read the help wanted ads again. I’m sure someplace is looking for a
53-year-old woman with arthritis, wide hips and a good head on her shoulders.
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