Reflections On My Year of Unemployment

When I was laid off in March 2009, I welcomed my newfound freedom with a variety of emotions, countless doubts and fears about the future, and a nagging feeling that I might finally be old enough to be retired. Spring was on its way, Phil and I were planning to plant a big vegetable garden, and I welcomed the free time I now had to get ready for the summer season, pushing my negative thoughts to the back of my mind. I was ready to pick berries and fruit, make jelly, bake bread, and learn how to freeze vegetables. I also began my job search, silently hoping that nothing would come my way until after the summer harvest.

During the first few months of unemployment, I worked my way through the bitterness I felt over being let go from a job I loved, changing gears in my mind of what I needed to concentrate on, and accepting with gratitude a weekly unemployment check. I prayed a daily prayer to God that He would send me a new job that I would love as much as my previous one. I talked about reinventing myself, although I didn’t have a clue over who the new Jennie might be or what she’d look like. Secretly, I hoped that I would receive a phone call from my employer with an apology for having let me go and an invitation to come back. I imagined my answer, along with my list of conditions for returning, and pictured myself once again working on my beloved Knowledge Center Online, the internet library I had created and managed for almost five years.

I was in for a myriad of surprises. First, nobody called me, inviting me to come back to my old job. Second, my professional network which I felt would jump at the opportunity to hire someone like me with my wealth of experience wasn’t interested at all in me. And third, I discovered that age discrimination is alive and doing very well as I applied for, and was rejected from, jobs that seemed perfect for me. Was I really getting old? Was it time for me to mosey out to pasture? And, lastly, I began to enjoy my days – going for long walks with my dog, trying new recipes for baking bread, and picking up my knitting needles and crochet hooks again.

After we put our summer garden to bed for the winter, I came indoors for the coldest, wettest winter in Georgia that I can ever remember. With the long winter, I experienced a bout of mild depression, and sat on the pity potty for a few days, but decided that it was not a comfortable place to sit for very long, and concentrated on keeping on keeping on. I hunkered down at the computer, still looking for the perfect job, but also picked up a novel I had begun working on a couple of years ago, and began writing again. A friend of mine asked me if I could help her out one day a week for a month or two to help her dig out from a pile of work that she had been too busy to take care of in her business. I still prayed for that elusive job, hopeful that God would place an opportunity in my lap that would put me back into the wage-earning world. With each application I sent in and with each email that contained my resume, I believed that a new job was just around the corner.

It is now May 2010, and I am still officially unemployed. I quit asking God for a job a few months ago. Why? Because one day I discovered that God had answered my prayer with one that wasn’t at all what I expected. I am still helping out my friend one day each week, and have been a listening ear and support for her during what I think must be the most difficult year in her life. We both agree that God had a hand in putting me in her office for a very special purpose. I am also tutoring writing and English one evening a week at Georgia Perimeter College, where I help struggling young (and not-so-young) students with their writing assignments. I have taken my love for photography, which is strictly amateur, into the creation of photo note cards that I have begun selling to friends and family and giving as gifts. I also have plans to sell my knitted and crocheted baby wash cloths and kitchen dish cloths at a fall craft festival. In addition, I’ll set up my table every Saturday morning this summer at the outdoor market in Monroe to sell my home-made bread and jellies, as well as some of the surplus from our garden. My novel is in the hands of a literary agent, and I am waiting with fingers crossed that she’ll like it. My life is full, and while I am not collecting a regular paycheck, I am enjoying life more than I have in years.

What has amazed me the most during this past year is that Phil and I continue to pay our monthly bills and have enough each month to keep us from digging into our savings to any great extent. We’ve discovered that by simplifying our life, sharing and bartering with our neighbors, and opening our home to friends for hot meals and friendly hospitality, we’re doing just fine. We’ve had some challenges, but somehow each one has been resolved without throwing us into a tailspin.

I am still open to having a job plop into my lap, but only if God finds one that is perfect for me. I continue to look, since I have to in order to keep the unemployment checks coming, but they will run out eventually, and they’ll need to be replaced with income from another source. But then, Phil and I are both close to Social Security age, so maybe retirement isn’t such a bad thing, after all!

A Splash of Cold Water

Every now and then my past rushes forward to splash cold water in my face and set my feet once again on solid ground. This happened to me last night, and surprisingly I was unprepared for it – I shouldn’t have been, but other things had taken the forefront in my mind lately, and I simply wasn’t thinking!

I met my friend, Vicki, at the American Cancer Society Relay for Life Kick-Off event in Monroe last night for dinner. As I drove from my home in Social Circle the ten miles to Monroe, my mind was on seeing her and being with other people for a little while. I’ve been working my way through a period of cabin fever and thumb twiddling at home the past few weeks. The garden is finished for the season, the weather has been nasty and rainy a good bit of the time, Phil has been sick with a vicious sinus infection, and I’ve been plagued with a bad case of poison ivy. All of this, along with the job market to seemingly dry up even more in my areas of experience, has had me in its grip. I haven’t sent out a resume for a potential job in over a month, and the little free-lance job I am doing from home isn’t yet reaping any rewards. I’ve been sitting on an over-sized pity potty, wishing my life could be different.

Last night over dinner, I updated Vicki on my job situation, and pretty much dumped on her. We hadn’t talked in quite awhile, so we took full advantage of dinner time to catch up on each other’s news and give the CliffNotes version on what’s going on in our lives. It was after dinner, when the program began, that I got my slap in the face.

The main part of the kick-off program was offered from cancer survivors. Four people got up in front of the audience to tell their story, either of facing cancer themselves or of being a care-giver for a cancer victim. As I listened to the stories being told with emotion, gratitude, faith, fear, and courage, I was taken back almost nine years ago to the day I received the phone call from my surgeon, telling me in as gentle a way as she could, that I had cancer. The small lump was no longer merely suspicious, but was a potential killer. Each of their stories was unique and individual, yet each was also my story. As I listened and connected with them, all of my current problems melted away. I had the horrible disease, defeated it, and it changed me forever- physically, but more importantly spiritually. I am a cancer victim, survivor, and thriver. One of the speakers also spoke of being a thriver. I remember using the term several years ago while delivering a key-note speech to a group of nurses. While my current situation of being unemployed isn’t fun, and isn’t where I’d like to be, I realized last night that I am still a thriver, and I continue to be cancer-free, at least for today. I wake up every morning to a brand new sunrise, move through my day as a healthy woman, and look forward to each tomorrow.

At the end of the meeting, all cancer survivors were asked to stand, and the audience applauded. I briefly stood along with several others, shaking off the uneasy feelings I had about having a spotlight on me. I’m not special because I’ve had cancer. I’m not special because I beat it. I’m not special because I wear a “Survivor” t-shirt at Relay for Life. What makes me special is what cancer did for me. It changed my life. It gave me a new vision of my world and a deep spiritual sense of God’s presence in his creation.

I had let the pity potty overshadow this for awhile. This morning I am off the pot, and watching for the sunrise.