For some reason, I never write about the happy ending, the antidote to my anxiety, and I wonder why that it is. It's certainly not a case of ingratitude. I think it's like when you get a cold, and you struggle for every breath, and suddenly something you never even think about becomes a luxury. As you toss and turn in your bed at night gasping for air, breathing is the only thing you think about. As your cold slowly passes, you don't even notice that suddenly you are able to breathe again. In this way, we take breathing for granted, and that is okay. Giving thanks to our open sinuses won't keep them from getting blocked.
But do I take employment for granted? I suppose no more than the next person. I try to keep my attitude positive and to be an asset to my team. I guess I want to focus my free time on other thoughts. I want to be grateful for a career while not letting it be the source of my esteem. I want to work so I can get on with the more important business of living. Also, I am a business analyst, and there is nothing I can do to make that interesting on paper. It's a good, solid job that pays well. It doesn't feed my soul. It's not supposed to. It's a living that lets me pursue the business of living with diligence.
I had an interview on 12/31, followed by an interview with the unemployment agency. Yes, we had been hoping to get away to a cabin in the snowy woods to celebrate the New Year with long snowy walks and hearty simple meals and evenings by the fire, but this business of business got in the way of the business of living, and I'm pretty proud to report that I took it like an adult. I'm getting better at this not having my way all the time concept.
I was extremely cheerful the day of my interview. I was dressed up in trendy sharp threads, and I was getting a chance to have a new opportunity. I was ending a year marked in ups and downs on an up! I felt that I did really well on the interview. I had solid answers, a good rapport with the team leader, and a strong feeling about my chances. Afterwards, however, I wondered if I was too cheerful, too much myself, not enough business IT professional.
I was pretty surly about the nonsense of having to go to the unemployment agency for the remainder of the day for "employment counseling," but I woke up and decided not to be surly about it anymore. In fact, I decided to be the most cheerful and professional person the agency would see all day. Putting myself in a positive frame of mind helped me get through the red tape with grace, and it also helped those who were assigned to "counsel" me. Sometimes we put a smile on our face to get through some hard times, but this time I realized that my smile made an unpleasant task easier for the other party, too. I will try to remember this trick the next time I have to do something I loathe. It's not such a bad thing being an expected ray of sunshine to strangers.
For the record, the counseling was as pointless as I presumed it would be. It went like this:
Counselor: Hmm. (Looking at my resume and obviously not reading it.) Have you thought about going to school?
Me: I already have a degree. I want to pursue my current career trek.
Counselor: (long pause, blank stare.) I heard that "Lilly's" is hiring. (I always love it when people pluralize or possesivize names of businesses. I mean, do you say, "Delta Airlines's is hiring." or "Let's go shopping at The Gap's.")
Me: That's who laid me off last spring.
Counselor: Hmmm. You do computers?
Me: Yes, I guess you could say I "do" computers.
Counselor: There's a new software company downtown. It's down there by AUL. I can't think of the name. I think it starts with an S. They might have something.
Me: Thanks. I will check into that.
Counselor: How about banks?
Me: What about them?
Counselor: Do you want to work in a bank?
Me: I never thought of it.
Counselor: Well, Lake City Bank just opened a new branch up in Castleton. I'm sure they'll need someone.
Me: Thanks! I'll check it out!
And that was pretty much the extent of my career counseling! Very helpful. They said that the state of Indiana is committed to helping unemployed people get back to work. I can't think of anything more helpful than these handy job-finding tips!
As it turns out, we had a pretty fabulous New Year's at Larry's place: salmon on cedar planks, really good wine, air hockey, board games, playing records, watching an old movie, Champagne (or sparkling wine from Korbel, I should say, since Champagne can come only from France) and delivering our Top Three list.
I spent New Year's Day determining my mindset for 2014 and making lists of Things I Wanna Do! We also took a long walk in the woods and made cookies.
And the next day, I was offered a job! I am back with the company I left in the summer before going to the Nightmare job. They're letting me keep all my seniority plus the severance they gave me! I have a new client, on the far north side and a new position! Unlike some of the other jobs I was offered these past few months, this one has potential and benefits, and I really like the idea of staying with my old company. I've been with them for eight years, which is one of the longest relationships I've ever had in my life.
I asked for a delayed start date until January 21, the manuscript due date of the book I was writing. The actual plan was for me to finish the book in a week so that we could go somewhere warm, wild, and fun before I started my new job. The weather cooperated for my writing binge by throwing us a doozy of a snowstorm that left most people stranded inside for days. "Snowmageddon" provided perfect conditions for me to power write, sometimes up to 16 hours per day. I was all stocked up and had no reason to venture out until the worst of it had past. The writing schedule was grueling, but I did it! I finished the book in just one week! (I'm sure I will pay for this during editorial review.) We were free to go to Warm, Wild, and Fun!
Problem was, Warm, Wild, and Fun got wind of the snow storm and subsequently jacked up all their prices. A trip I had planned to Boynton Beach nearly tripled in price, and we both agreed that it simply wasn't worth the money. We decided to save the money for something more memorable at a later time, and we kicked the word "staycation" around.
Staycation. In Indiana. In January. Not just any January, but one of the coldest and snowiest on record. There would be no all day bike rides, or hiking through forests and swimming in rivers, or going to drive-in movies, or going to barbecues with friends, or outdoor music festivals like we had done last summer when we had to cancel a camping trip to Sleeping Bear Dunes.
I never thought it possible, but we wound up having an incredible time! We followed the same methodology: try something new everyday, if possible. If not, do something tried and true with a new 'tude.
We started out with a poetry slam at Indy Indie Artist Colony. For months, I feel I've been in a rut here in Indy. It had been a long time since I discovered anything new. When I was newly single several years ago, I got used to going out by myself. I didn't choose noisy, popular bars. I chose quiet neighborhood joints and tiny music venues. I had a handful of places where they really did know my name. All of those fledgling places did not survive. One by one, I had to say my goodbyes to the far flung different colored doorways that let me in. I guess people prefer the popular noisy places where you see everyone you know and can't hear the music, which you don't need to since it's cover music anyway. (RIP The Boulevard Cafe, Urban Element, Lazy Daze Coffeehouse, The Earth House, The El Salvadorian joint, The Colombian joint, concerts at the Indy Hostel, First Friday (all but obliterated by carousers and baby strollers), Final Fridays at the IMA, the Vollrath, etc..)
The thing about being cooped up all winter is that I don't really mind it. I don't tell many people that. I don't get cabin fever, and I don't get bored! I cook. I play with my pets. I read. I write. I clean. I scheme. I exercise. I go for walks. I play my records. I watch TED talks. I watch Netflix. The downside of my cabin fever bliss is that it takes away my edge. That is not a good thing. As much as I don't want the overextended plans-every-night-the-week social life I once thought I needed to be happy, I also don't want to teeter too close to the A word--agoraphobia. I'm an introvert and I know it (clap my hands), so I have to pay really close attention to the difference between loving my solitude and avoiding society.
I used to enjoy poetry slams at the Earth House. I remember going to one on Valentine's Day with a friend who was a guy but not a boyfriend but who was so polite and intent that I felt I was on a sort of platonic date, which was really nice.) I recently watched an HBO DVD about poetry slams, and it made me miss the art form so much. I just happened to see a blurb on do317 about a new poetry slam/open mic, and I knew i had to go. I didn't know if I'd get Larry interested, but I knew I had to go!
Going out in negative temps on dark icy roads to a drafty old building in downtown Indy didn't seem like something I would do unless someone was holding me accountable. Larry hesitated at first, but soon he was on board, especially when I put it in the context of staying young by staying vibrant and staying vibrant by trying new things, which is not bullshit. I said, "You might like it. You might not. But if you don't, you'll have to keep quiet, because I am going with every intention of liking it."
He doesn't really like poetry, but that's not poetry's fault. It's the fault of people who think you have to read poetry in manner of Garrison Keillor (yuck) or tweed-wearing liberal arts milquetoast professor. I said, "You might like Slam."
The thing about being cooped up all winter is that I don't really mind it. I don't tell many people that. I don't get cabin fever, and I don't get bored! I cook. I play with my pets. I read. I write. I clean. I scheme. I exercise. I go for walks. I play my records. I watch TED talks. I watch Netflix. The downside of my cabin fever bliss is that it takes away my edge. That is not a good thing. As much as I don't want the overextended plans-every-night-the-week social life I once thought I needed to be happy, I also don't want to teeter too close to the A word--agoraphobia. I'm an introvert and I know it (clap my hands), so I have to pay really close attention to the difference between loving my solitude and avoiding society.
I used to enjoy poetry slams at the Earth House. I remember going to one on Valentine's Day with a friend who was a guy but not a boyfriend but who was so polite and intent that I felt I was on a sort of platonic date, which was really nice.) I recently watched an HBO DVD about poetry slams, and it made me miss the art form so much. I just happened to see a blurb on do317 about a new poetry slam/open mic, and I knew i had to go. I didn't know if I'd get Larry interested, but I knew I had to go!
Going out in negative temps on dark icy roads to a drafty old building in downtown Indy didn't seem like something I would do unless someone was holding me accountable. Larry hesitated at first, but soon he was on board, especially when I put it in the context of staying young by staying vibrant and staying vibrant by trying new things, which is not bullshit. I said, "You might like it. You might not. But if you don't, you'll have to keep quiet, because I am going with every intention of liking it."
He doesn't really like poetry, but that's not poetry's fault. It's the fault of people who think you have to read poetry in manner of Garrison Keillor (yuck) or tweed-wearing liberal arts milquetoast professor. I said, "You might like Slam."
I love slam poetry, especially women "spitters." ("Spitters"are the people who take the mic, and "Sitters" are the people who listen.) You rarely see women so unencumbered, unleashed, and uninhibited. I had a great feeling wash over me as the poets took the mike and the sitters took up seats on folding chairs, zebra-print wing back chairs, and seen-better-days futons. Larry made a joke that he was by far the oldest person in the room, and I responded that I was the second oldest, then we both said at the same time, "and we're both the whitest."
And this is how we knew we were in the right place. Way out of our element. And when people noticed it, they sorta smiled, not at us but for us. Yes, I do read minds, thank you very much, and they were thinking: "Hey, older white people at a slam! That's cool!"
Most of what we heard was pretty good, some of it fantastic, and some of it "eh." We stayed for four hours. There was a band in the middle somewhere, and lots of free (boxed) wine and lemonade and cheese and crackers and grapes. I took my camera and tried to capture the mood, but I'm going to blame the crappy lighting in the place. I finally gave up the camera and took photos in my mind.
Outside, people hustled by on icy dirt-caked sidewalks. Inside we had a fire of words, wisdom, and honesty. This is the exact urban experience I love. You can keep your trendy martini bars. This is where I belong. I even jotted down a few ideas and felt inspiration, whose company I've missed these past several months. In the back of my mind, I told myself that I would one day write and give a slam that was all my own. I'm gonna hold myself accountable to that.
On the way out, Larry congratulated me. He did! He said I have a knack for finding the most interesting things that no one's ever heard of! And we both agreed we'd be back!
We still had a week ahead of us! We saw a movie "Hunger Games: Catching Fire." A play "And Then They Came for Me," at the IRT. A comedy show. A lecturer at Butler University: filmmaker Lee Daniels. Met with friends for drinks and dinner downtown. Worked out in my home gym while watching "Ken Burns: The West." Made brunch. Played games. Hiked Holliday Park. Took lots of quiet midnight walks, which filled me with peace and hope. Lots of stars and snow crunching under foot. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I've learned to love winter! I read a book ("Like Me" by country singer Chely Wright about her journey of coming out) just for enjoyment, not as research, and what a luxury!
And we ended our staycation with a winter hike through Turkey Run. We even had a snow picnic, complete with beer. The second we descended the icicle-dripping canyons, a calm washed over me. The air changed. The only sound was a single bird. It was so beautiful I lost my breath. We went in the fall and promised to come back for every season, so just keeping a promise was reason enough to be happy. We're already planning our spring hike, just in time for my birthday.
And finally, I started my new job. I get dressed up. I put on make up. I put up my hair. I pack a healthy lunch. And everyday, I drive into the sunrise. I found a major advantage of rejoining the rat race! I start everyday with bright pink promises.
And this is how we knew we were in the right place. Way out of our element. And when people noticed it, they sorta smiled, not at us but for us. Yes, I do read minds, thank you very much, and they were thinking: "Hey, older white people at a slam! That's cool!"
Most of what we heard was pretty good, some of it fantastic, and some of it "eh." We stayed for four hours. There was a band in the middle somewhere, and lots of free (boxed) wine and lemonade and cheese and crackers and grapes. I took my camera and tried to capture the mood, but I'm going to blame the crappy lighting in the place. I finally gave up the camera and took photos in my mind.
Outside, people hustled by on icy dirt-caked sidewalks. Inside we had a fire of words, wisdom, and honesty. This is the exact urban experience I love. You can keep your trendy martini bars. This is where I belong. I even jotted down a few ideas and felt inspiration, whose company I've missed these past several months. In the back of my mind, I told myself that I would one day write and give a slam that was all my own. I'm gonna hold myself accountable to that.
On the way out, Larry congratulated me. He did! He said I have a knack for finding the most interesting things that no one's ever heard of! And we both agreed we'd be back!
We still had a week ahead of us! We saw a movie "Hunger Games: Catching Fire." A play "And Then They Came for Me," at the IRT. A comedy show. A lecturer at Butler University: filmmaker Lee Daniels. Met with friends for drinks and dinner downtown. Worked out in my home gym while watching "Ken Burns: The West." Made brunch. Played games. Hiked Holliday Park. Took lots of quiet midnight walks, which filled me with peace and hope. Lots of stars and snow crunching under foot. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I've learned to love winter! I read a book ("Like Me" by country singer Chely Wright about her journey of coming out) just for enjoyment, not as research, and what a luxury!
And we ended our staycation with a winter hike through Turkey Run. We even had a snow picnic, complete with beer. The second we descended the icicle-dripping canyons, a calm washed over me. The air changed. The only sound was a single bird. It was so beautiful I lost my breath. We went in the fall and promised to come back for every season, so just keeping a promise was reason enough to be happy. We're already planning our spring hike, just in time for my birthday.
And finally, I started my new job. I get dressed up. I put on make up. I put up my hair. I pack a healthy lunch. And everyday, I drive into the sunrise. I found a major advantage of rejoining the rat race! I start everyday with bright pink promises.
