GUARDIAN ANGELS

Leslie at Linda Mar Beach

It's been a crazy few weeks since discovering my unemployment insurance ran out unexpectedly; a real mash up wonderful and difficult that never leaves us bored or needing something to do. I've come to the conclusion that being unemployed is a full time job, particularly when the chips are down and you're scrambling to pay the utilities and mortgage.

All financial dramas aside, I think we're in fairly good shape emotionally. Elizabeth found her groove in school and seems fully recovered from the problem she had with the Cabrillo Bullies and other Malcontents. She's got a darling new beau, one who isn't in a rush to grow up much like she, and rather than inhibiting her creative nature like she was compelled to do last year, she is more herself than ever, right down to the set of Pikachu Power Cheeks.

Leslie is hanging in there.  Being in this transitional place regarding home finances has got to be her least favorite place in the entire universe; yet to her credit, she remains poised and engaged.  There are times when, like myself, she feels like her head might explode, but rather than lighting the fireworks, she simply goes to lie down for a while. Suffice it to say this unemployment adventure has forced us to mature in many unexpected ways.  She and I, and indeed Elizabeth as well, are more a team than ever before. What buoyancy we have in the family is due to efforts by all of us to remain upbeat and positive despite the obvious.

Me?  I'm doing alright. Still losing weight although it's slowed down because I'm not working out much lately. I've been incredibly focused on getting work with little time for anything else, and some opportunities have come forward.  Without getting into details, let me say that Pacifica and it's Art Guild are peppered with Guardian Angels and a very giving spirit. Between that and the Guardian Angels residing on Facebook, I feel incredibly blessed by people who are watching out for us and contributing to our well-being in a substantial manner.

Leslie, Elizabeth & The Joker

I'm still in a holding pattern on the BIG JOB in Redwood City, the one that will pay for Elizabeth's braces at the expense of my somewhat reluctantly re-entering Private Sector servitude.    Until I am thrust back onto that Merry-Go-Round, I'll continue to enrich myself at SAC, doing what is highly rewarding intellectually.  When the irons I have in the fire grow flames, I'll have a better idea of where we stand and perhaps sleep better and have fewer disturbing dreams.

The Art Guild continues to be a source of constant pleasure, and as what I'm doing at SAC naturally intersects with it, it becomes doubly satisfying.  Some members are becoming friends in a truer sense, surpassing mere acquaintances to become something richer. I'm doing alot of writing for the Guild and had a press release with my name in the by-line printed in the Pacifica Tribune recently.  That made me so happy!  Opening night of AGP's Member Exhibition and award show was last Friday, and all three of went and had a great time.  I got a lot of compliments on my piece, and those who didn't recognize my work congratulated me on the article.  It was just what I needed.

Gonna be Pikachu for Halloween!  Woot!

I've said it before but I'll say it again.  We'll be in this place, no matter how difficult, until we are released, and in the meantime, we'll do the best we can with it.  It's a lot like surfing.  Each wave is another economic challenge.

Still, if it weren't for our Guardian Angels and their unending support, it would be so much harder.  Maybe too hard.  Offering the kind of help that my parents and extended family never did (with the exception of my maternal grandparents), they reinforce my faith in the human spirit.

If It's Not All Well, Then It's Not The End

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.

My Claim is Exhausted and So Am I

I last time I blogged here I wrote about worry.  I was worried (whining) about work and my unemployment benefits ending around December 31 of this year, and all sorts of other stuff.  Imagine my surprise when I found out this morning that my unemployment claim was exhausted, as in no money left … at all.

There was some weirdness going on with my most recent unemployment payment, and because I was worried about October, I had to talk to someone in the unemployment office.  I’d made a number of financial promises, and we had plans in anticipation of having a third check when usually there are only two.  October just turned out that way, giving us a chance to catch up with a few things. So, I spent the last two days dialing 1-800-300-5616 (dial 1 for English, dial 2 for Spanish, dial 3 to toss your cell phone in the garbage disposal and watch with glee as it’s torn to shreds).  I finally got through to someone this morning at about 8:50 a.m. 

After explaining my problem, I was advised that I had zero dollars left to my claim.  I even have something in writing from the EDD indicating I was good to go until the end of December, but no.  0 + 0 = 0 … you could drive a truck between the vague loopholes in communication from the EDD.  I’m a smart woman, and still I missed the difference between having an open claim and having a fully funded claim.  I was advised of this by a completely apathetic woman, and even as I began to tear up in frustration and feel a little hysterical (no act there), I thought why hadn’t anyone mentioned this?  I’d talked with someone about my problem two times previously with two separate people over the last couple of days and NO ONE bothered to mention “Hey, are you aware that you are down to your last $450?” 

My head exploded.  I mean, really.  It flew apart into a million pieces.  How would I pay the mortgage? Never mind all the other bills. Screw all that. How will we pay the mortgage was all I could think of.  Hearing all this from where she was in the living room, I could hear Leslie’s heartbeat start racing like a runaway train.  She had no chest pain, of course, but I knew the stress would be hard to bear.  How many times had we talked about how lucky we were that we had enough money to cover the mortgage even though I wasn't working?  A day ago, I thought my benefits would expire the end of December, and having a few irons in the fire, I was prepared to do so temp work if necessary.  Now, temp work is urgent.   My next thought was how do we tell Elizabeth? She’s already so good about all this, but now she has to worry about losing her home?  There is no family to call for help. It’s just the three of us and has been for years.  So, it’s up to us to make it work. She knows this.

After the initial shock, and after cleaning my exploded grey matter off the walls, I started writing, networking, to everyone I could think of who might have a tip on a job, and every temp agency I’ve ever done business with.  The opportunity at Redwood Shores ironically gained some traction today becoming a job I am uniquely qualified for. I have a phone interview in the morning. And I’ve got an appointment in the afternoon with a temp agency so I can get some income happening.  Then, we had to go to an eye doctor's appointment that took forever to get and Leslie really needed to take.  I waited for her in the lobby for over an hour, and it was the longest hour of my life.  You know how it feels when you need to be doing something, anything, and all you can do is sit?

When Elizabeth got home, we explained what happened, and she asked questions like “Do I have to worry about being homeless?” and “Do I have to be afraid?”  I explained the difference between sending in resumes over the internet for a permanent job and hearing nothing, versus getting temp work with an agency when you need it.  She understood I would get something soon. She teared up a little, but recovered quickly.  As I exclaimed about what a stressful day it was, she said, “But you’re not being mean.”  That sort of stopped me in my tracks.  She explained that when dealing with the stress of the last job, I was mean at home.  Her words really opened my eyes.  I realized how stressed out that place, my last place of permanent employment, had really made me; how difficult the enduring uncertainty and tension there, the nastiness of people’s behavior, had worn me down. It was so bad that I was angry and upset virtually all the time.  My fifteen year old opened my eyes to this in a way that hadn't occurred previously.  I told her I wouldn’t let that happen again. I'd had plenty of time to rest and bounce back from all that stress, and I told her I was sorry.  She answered, "It's okay, Nana. Can we study my French now?"  Kids.

They say it’ll be alright in the end, and if it’s not alright, it’s not the end.  Well, it’s about 10:30 p.m., and I feel like I’ve been whacked about the head hard with a reality stick.  And when the cosmic joker was done with me, he started whacking Leslie.  We were both feeling stunned, but we stuck together like glue.  Now we’re just tired.

I need to work. I don’t care what it is. If I’m capable of doing it and it’s enough to cover the bills, I’ll do it.  I have current secretarial skills, I’m a good manager, and I’m a good leader with a strong facilities background.  My resume is strong, and I have years of experience.

I’m sending out my need and desire into the ether like it’s a palpable thing. Right now it is.  I send it on Raven’s wings and dragon’s flight, and I know my intent will find its destination … and soon.

It as to.

COMING SOON

Worry

Me looking thinner!

I have so much on my mind right now.  I’ve been out of work for almost two years, despite submitting resumes every week and lowering my salary requirements.  I’ve had no more than four calls, and two were from agencies.  The most current was a job I’m perfect for, but the company is giving priority to an internal candidate. My resume hasn’t been rejected, but it’s more than two weeks.  My unemployment insurance ends on December 31, and that’s a little less than four months away, so I’m worried. 

Christmas is coming, too, and when living paycheck to paycheck, it’s more a cause for stress.  Figuring out a way to give my daughter a Christmas occupies a lot of my head space, even though I know that things will turn out alright in the end.  And if it’s not alright, then it’s not the end.

These thoughts strike me as somewhat ironic. When I was working, I had no idea how hard it could be for families out of work.  Well, I’ve learned.  Leslie and I have matured a lot over the last two years. We’ve really identified the line that exists between what we need and what we want, and we rarely cross it.  If we do, it’s for our daughter; and she’s such a team player that she asks for very little.

When I was working, I spent a lot of time pondering the difference between time and money, and realizing I seem to have one or the other. When I was working, I had very little time. Now that I’m not working, I’ve had lots, and I’ve used it wisely.  I’ve made lots of art. Done lots of blogging.  I’m working on and am half way through my first novel, and I’m having loads of fun with the Art Guild of Pacifica. There are a few shows coming up like the AGP Member’s Show (I want to make a new piece for that), and the big Galleria, which showcases open walls and a salon style show.  I really enjoy AGP.  And, of course, I had bariatric weight loss surgery in June.  I’ve lost more than 60 pounds already and am happy every day that I had it done.

At least we’ve always been able to pay the mortgage. I don’t want that to change.

I’ll end up registering with a couple of temp agencies and falling back on the secretarial skills my grandmother (rip) insisted I get coming out of high school.

Whatever it takes.