Monday, May 04, 2009

The Wrong Kind of Anniversary

Yesterday marked my fifth month of unemployment. I thought it would last maybe three to four months at the most. I never counted on my job search lasting for five months. Or longer, as the case now is.

I've been working in some form or fashion since I was a little tyke. Daily chores at home, graduating to working for my grandparents, and then to babysitting and then to my first "real" job at 16 working as a Dining Room Girl (I know -very PC) at the Masonic Home for Adults. At 17, I went into the Army, and have pretty much been working steadily ever since.

Five months without a job - and without hope of a job - is really draining.

Unemployment messes with my sense of self worth. It dampens my spirit more than I would care to admit to. And, it's just not fun.

I know as a working stiff, I used to say things like "Oh it would be so nice not to work." Let me tell you, it is not. Maybe it is if one is wealthy and doesn't have to worry about bills and food and healthcare. But, six months after being laid off, I can say that my once uttered words do not ring true to me at all.

What I wouldn't give to be getting up at 5:30, just so I could be ready to walk out the door at 7:00. What I wouldn't give to be stuck in the Spaghetti Bowl on my way home from hard day of work. And what I wouldn't give to do it all again four more days in a row...

Believe me, if you have a job, thank your God(s) for it. You don't know what you're missing, and for that, be grateful.

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