Again ... long time no post. But I intend to change that. And this is why.
In the past several months I've had several challenges thrown in my path. For one, Mr. E, the elderly gentleman for whom I had been live-in caretaker, began a new phase of decline--a sad situation in itself, but also a difficult one for me, as I gradually needed to spend more and more of my time doing more and more things for him. Finally it became obvious to all that, alas, he was going to need more care than any one person could give him in-home, and so we reluctantly moved him to an assisted living facility. It was the right move--he's doing a lot better there. But now I suddenly had two big problems on my hands: I needed to find both a new living situation, and new additional employment. (I have one long-standing part-time gig, which, while secure, is not nearly enough to live on by itself.)
Third big problem: the summer of 2009 has turned out to be the absolutely worst time in the world to go looking for a job in the US in general, and in California in particular. You don't need me to repeat the headlines--you already know. And here I was, with less-that-state-of-the-art computer skills and practically obsolete software and hardware tools, not to mention two full years of home caretaking experience that apparently gave me no job-hunting traction whatsoever without a CNA after my name, looking at a shrunken job market flooded by others already laid off from their jobs. So--yeah, I have fabulous office skills, as confirmed by an awed office manager with whom I got a one-day stint through a friend of a friend ... but when you're just one of a bazillion resumes sitting in somebody's in-box or languishing on Monster.com, who the hell knows that?
Add to all this the sad fact that, in the past several months of being more and more stressed out by Mr. E's declining situation, I had really let go of a lot of the good work I had done in taking weight off and eating healthy. No excuses here: I just plain old went into denial and indulged the Lizard Brain like crazy. So I now am back up a full 50 pounds, feel very uncomfortable and tired, and am depressed and pissed off at myself for having backslid so much.
Even with all this going on, I have been taking forward steps. I've got the housing situation solved, for the time being at least. I've gotten a few stop-gap gigs lined up (in addition to the one day office-temping gig, I've lined up a few house-sitting gigs). I've been working my people-network like crazy, and scouring Craigslist, and going on interviews. I even thought I'd succeeded in landing an additional part-time job ... which, alas, fell through. But I'm not waiting for any of those ships to come in: I've enrolled half-time at the local community college, with the aim of brushing up my professional skills, getting student discounts on some brand-new software and hardware, plus incidentally getting access to the student health services so I can sorta-safely drop the individual health insurance plan that has been blowing a huge hole in my finances.
But through all this, I've felt like I've been slogging along like the proverbial herd of turtles through a sea of peanut butter. I know what the problem is: I'm feeling really, seriously demoralized. A lot of the interpersonal safety nets I thought I had built up are simply. not. working.
The problem is that there are just plain ol' so many people in difficult straits right now that EVERYONE'S stressed. So I turn to a buddy for some commiseration (and maybe an emergency backup couch-surfing arrangement), and he's immediately replying with his even sadder tale of looming bankruptcy and need to short-sell his house. Or I mention my discouragement about the job hunt to an acquaintance, and she replies that she's looking at for-sure layoff within the next few months, and jokes that she and her tweener son might be living out of their car if they can't come up with something else.
And don't even get me started on how the California state budget cuts are gutting public safety net funding right at the very moment that people need them the most--both the recipients, and the workers who service those recipients. So--yeah, well-meaning friends suggest "Hey, with your experience as a caretaker, why don't you apply to work for IHHS?" and I have to blink at them, wondering if they've noticed that IHHS is one of the things on the chopping block as we speak.
So ... I'm taking another tack: I'm fighting back through blogging.
An old standby tool of mine: if nobody else has the energy or bandwidth to be the kind of cheerleader I need, then I'll be my own cheerleader. And if I garner some "right on, you go girl" comments, why so much the better.
I've been in dreadfully hard places in my life before, and I've dug myself out before. I know I can do this. I have all the tools and know-how--I already live frugally enough, and I can still cut things even closer to the bone. That's not the issue. The issue is keeping my morale up. Keeping psyched. Keeping moving instead of turning over in bed and giving in to the sleep-it-away blues. Because nobody is going to submit those resumes or fill out those applications or work those social networks for me. And what's more, when I do those things, I know I have to do them with esprit de corps, because they don't work if they've got the stink of desperation on them. So--yep, it's corny affirmation time for moi, blog style. Plus a little bit of the attitude that reminds me that, yep, I'm the same Miz Ducky who always remembers to laugh at herself and the universe.
Witness my subject line: that's courtesy of none other than Bugs Bunny, who in turn borrowed it from Groucho Marx. Both of them always uttered it in response to various outrageous provocations ... just before brushing off the pie Fate had thrown at their faces and getting on with getting even with Fate. I dunno that "getting even" is what I particularly need to do with Fate ... but I do want to get back on the fun side of her dealings. So--yep. This means war. Not hostile nasty violent war. But the war of attitude, positive type. Illegitimus non carborundum, as somebody else once said. Don't let the bastards grind you down.
