The
last time I blogged I just found out my unemployment insurance was exhausted. Don’t ask me how something that important could
possibly be unexpected, because I’m still wondering that myself. My head absolutely exploded as Leslie and I teetered
on the edge of a very precarious cliff, neither side of which guaranteed any
mortgage payments in our immediate future.
Crisis mode!
Since
then, a few things have changed.
Immediately
after hearing the bad news mentioned above, I sent out an S.O.S. to everyone I
know in Pacifica. I sent them my professional
resume and asked if they would share it with work connections, etc. And one of those people came back with a
wonderful little opportunity for part time contracted work at the local art
center. This is the place where the Art Guild has most of their shows. I’ve been attracted to this place ever since
we moved to Pacifica, and the woman I’m working with is at a super busy time of
the year and feels that I was sent to her.
Kismet! I’m learning all about
running a gallery, and how to keep artist studios rented and full, and how to
run their non-profit business. It’s the
kind of work that is good for the spirit, but not so good for the pocket book.
Meanwhile,
I’m waiting to hear on another part time opportunity brought to my attention by
an old high school chum who was kind enough to respond to the post-crisis
freaking out I did on Facebook. I mean,
this really touches my heart. She’s a fun,
crazy person who has raised four gorgeous, smart and talented children, but I’d
sort of lost track of her. Finding her
on Facebook (actually, she found me) was a blessing, and we’ve had a lot of fun
with one another on-line since.
Then,
a job I applied for in a mid-size accounting firm, one that pays very well, began
to gain traction immediately after my employment insurance fiasco. I found this position through a placement
agency. My resume was put in front of
them over a month ago, but I hadn’t heard anything. I thought for sure it was a
done deal. Then, they called me in for
an interview, the kind where you sit in a conference room and meet one person after
another. I prepared for two days, so my
interviews went very well. I’m hoping to be called back for round two.
Leslie
and I find ourselves in the uncomfortable transition between crisis and
resolution. While it would be much more comfortable to know precisely where the
money for the mortgage will come from, instead we must have faith that all will
turn out. What do they say? All will be well in the end, and if it’s not
well, then it’s not the end.
