Pocketful of Hopes and Dreams

Being unemployed means your job is finding a new job.

The temptation is there to sleep late, watch TV, play on the internet, etc. I did none of those things. My alarm got me up at 7:30 am and for the next hour I skimmed the feeds in my Google Reader, made coffee, took a shower, got dressed, started laundry and ate a banana for breakfast. By 8:30 or so, I was hard at work researching and writing a cover letter for a new opportunity.

I found this new opportunity because I couldn’t sleep and decided to do a bit of searching online. I couldn’t sleep because I couldn’t get comfortable because I couldn’t relax because I lost my job seven days before Christmas. It’s amazing the fuel you will find within yourself when you aren’t comfortable.

The opportunity was exciting because it was closer to some of my friends. I’ve felt a bit isolated stuck in the middle between them and I’m partly viewing the job search as a way to get closer to one set of friends or the other. I’m certainly looking at opportunities in my own backyard, but I’ll go where the job search leads me.

I took a break for a late lunch after I had completed the cover letter to my satisfaction and emailed it, plus my resume and reference list, to the opportunity’s human resources. One of my best friends broke his leg over the weekend and was going to have surgery today, so I checked Facebook for any new updates, watched something I TiVo’d the other night, dealt with laundry and filled the dishwasher.

Thankfully, my part-time job is still in effect and I spent two hours there late in the afternoon updating the website of the not-for-profit institution and answering emails. It would be all too easy to simply crawl under the covers and ignore the outside world, but the part-time gig forces me to get out of the apartment and interact with people. Now, if I could just motivate myself to actually exercise more…

The rest of the evening was spent organizing for tomorrow, cooking supper, preparing for my bi-weekly call into the unemployment office and making sure I could still fit into my suit jacket.

I put the jacket on and in the inside pocket was the information from my last interview with the company that two weeks ago decided my crafted-especially-for-me-position would no longer exist. In my chicken scratch handwriting was the name of the human resources contact person, her phone number, and the date and time of the old interview. I held the scrap piece of paper in my hands reading the words I scrawled there. Then, I neatly folded it back up and threw it in the trash.

Being unemployed means your job is finding a new job.