When you're without a job, some days are decidedly better than others. As I was telling my representative from the outplacement service today, there are days when I feel a true sense of accomplishment in my efforts to get re-situated. Then, of course, there are the days when absolutely nothing happens -- no one returns my calls, no one returns my e-mails, I get nowhere, I get nothing done. It all seems hopeless. It's an emotional roller-coaster.
It's not all doom'n'gloom, though. This week, I have three -- count'em: 3 -- interviews lined-up. I have a few irons in the fire and I'm continuing to solicit new ones, but again, not every day brings such good fortune. Some days I bust out a snazzy tie, the "interview trousers" and shine up my Doc Marten wing-tips. Other days, I spend the entirety of the day in crappy camo shorts, ripped up black Chuck Taylors and an ill-fitting rock t-shirt, pretty much the wardrobe of my similarly jobless teen years.
But even on the bad days -- the days when I haven't managed to advance my situation in the slightest -- there are moments worth cheering about. In the last month, I've gotten to spend an otherwise inordinate amount of time with my kids. Being able to spend whole days with them -- especially when they're in these toddler years -- is truly the nicest side-affect of my unemployment. I've also been able to get out and get more sun and fresh air than I otherwise might. I'm walking more, getting more exercise and getting to roam about my beloved Manhattan more than I was previously able to. It's not all bad.
So even though I spend more than the majority of the day feeling bad about myself for being jobless, there are the little things that lift my spirits. About ten minutes ago, I popped out to buy some groceries (I've also taken it upon myself to pick up more of the domestic tasks just to feel more like I'm contributing). Along with various sundry items, I picked myself up a six pack of Red Stripe. When the woman behind the cash register saw it, she asked me to show my i.d. (and I turn forty in October). I'd like to think this is because I have somehow retained my youthful glow and look like a man half my age. I smiled.
But, again, maybe it's just the wardrobe.
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