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One year later...
Mar. 14th, 2021 03:31 pmThis coming week marks one full year since I gave my two weeks at the bank, and lately I've been thinking about how that's affected my life since then. It took me a couple of months to get used to not having to stress over unemployment and no consistent paycheck. [Again, I'm incredibly lucky in that we could afford my being unemployed, and I know how much of a rarity this situation actually is.]
What shocked me the most was just how stressed out I'd been about employment and money over the last, oh, thirty-five years. My first jobs as a teen were all about me trying to save money for college...and mind you, those checks were pathetic considering they were all part-time and minimum wage was hovering around four dollars and change. I had to save up or ask my parents for pocket money if I wanted to go out with friends. Every other job I held up to and including HMV in the late 90s didn't quite make enough for me to get out of debt. By the time we moved out here in 2005, that stress on my shoulders was so hard-fucking-coded in me that it had become just another necessary evil and I never questioned it, even when A started making triple what I made.
I never realized just how heavy that burden had gotten, and how used to it I'd gotten, until three or four months after I'd left the bank. I had to force myself to release that stress and make it go away. Mind you, I don't say this in a tone-deaf "you too can quit your shitty job!" way. I say this simply because the difference was so goddamned striking, and that I understood all too well that so many other Americans out there will never be able to experience the same thing.
I spent a lot of that time rethinking about a lot of things in my life. Specifically, how I could afford to make some personal changes, to allow myself to make them without constantly worrying 'what if' every fucking time. To focus even more on my creative output, something I'd only been able to do for maybe a few hours a week. That took even longer. I still fall prey to that 'what if' now and again, but it's nowhere near as bad as it was.
Anyway. I'm still unemployed at this point, but I've been throwing my resume out there -- this time, for the first time in my life, without that feeling of desperation -- and I've been writing. I've been getting healthier. I've been doing many house errands and the grocery shopping. I try not to waste the day if I can help it. I'm deeply thankful for A's patience and influence and knowledge while I go through this.
This has been one incredibly strange year. Strange for me in that, while most everyone else is in a constant state of fear and anger (or denial, depending on who you voted for), I spent most of it seeking a clarity I never though I'd be able to reach. Yeah, I know, hashtag-blessed, but still -- it was definitely a life-changing event that ended up being a positive for me. I won't forget that.
What shocked me the most was just how stressed out I'd been about employment and money over the last, oh, thirty-five years. My first jobs as a teen were all about me trying to save money for college...and mind you, those checks were pathetic considering they were all part-time and minimum wage was hovering around four dollars and change. I had to save up or ask my parents for pocket money if I wanted to go out with friends. Every other job I held up to and including HMV in the late 90s didn't quite make enough for me to get out of debt. By the time we moved out here in 2005, that stress on my shoulders was so hard-fucking-coded in me that it had become just another necessary evil and I never questioned it, even when A started making triple what I made.
I never realized just how heavy that burden had gotten, and how used to it I'd gotten, until three or four months after I'd left the bank. I had to force myself to release that stress and make it go away. Mind you, I don't say this in a tone-deaf "you too can quit your shitty job!" way. I say this simply because the difference was so goddamned striking, and that I understood all too well that so many other Americans out there will never be able to experience the same thing.
I spent a lot of that time rethinking about a lot of things in my life. Specifically, how I could afford to make some personal changes, to allow myself to make them without constantly worrying 'what if' every fucking time. To focus even more on my creative output, something I'd only been able to do for maybe a few hours a week. That took even longer. I still fall prey to that 'what if' now and again, but it's nowhere near as bad as it was.
Anyway. I'm still unemployed at this point, but I've been throwing my resume out there -- this time, for the first time in my life, without that feeling of desperation -- and I've been writing. I've been getting healthier. I've been doing many house errands and the grocery shopping. I try not to waste the day if I can help it. I'm deeply thankful for A's patience and influence and knowledge while I go through this.
This has been one incredibly strange year. Strange for me in that, while most everyone else is in a constant state of fear and anger (or denial, depending on who you voted for), I spent most of it seeking a clarity I never though I'd be able to reach. Yeah, I know, hashtag-blessed, but still -- it was definitely a life-changing event that ended up being a positive for me. I won't forget that.
