I spent the better part of the evening hiding in my garage. The loads of laundry were piled high (washed but unfolded). I continued to fill the washer as I attacked the pile.
Upstairs, BoBo attacked his room. He pulled all of the clothes from his closet floor, sorted and put them into various piles. I stole hangers from the closets all around the house so that he would not have an excuse to pile the clothes back onto the closet floor again.
I didn’t even complain when he came downstairs with 4 boxes of clothes that he didn’t want anymore. I just sorted them into my own piles for YaYa now, later, and for the local church.
Even YaYa participated. I had him bring me hangers for his shirts, and pick the clothes up off of his closet floor. Fortunately, YaYa’s is far more managable than BoBo’s. I think that he pulls out his dirty clothes to search for lost toys.
When I brought the pile of clean underwear and socks into YaYa’s room and told him to put them away he started to cry. I guess it was too much for him. I showed him how he didn’t even need to move from his bed to put them away. I opened the top dresser drawer and began tossing them into it like a game of basketball. The ploy worked.
Soon, I was back in the garage moving the remaining items around until I was satisfied that my van would fit – that is as soon as I sell the large office desk.
From the garage, one can hear the loud noises that are important to hear. The annoying sounds of the Nick at night competing with the loud Hip-Hop, R&B, Rap stuff (I don’t actually know what you call it) is muffled. I can see why men are known to hang out in their garages. As we guessed, it IS a nice escape.
Escapes are good, even neccessary at times. But the inevitable thoughts eventually find their way into the head regardless.
I know that I have time to get things in order and to find a new job. But I also still have a job that will keep me busy and away from the task at hand. My days are short and my energy low. It seems impossible to carve out more time to do what needs to be done in order to land the perfect job.
It is scary to think about the interviewing process last time around. The company that hosted the interview turned endurance event is hiring again, but I think I’ll pass this time around. I’ve heard some rumors about them too.
Even more frightening than interviewing is having to interview during my first holiday season without Tom. That would be the timing considering that I have a target start for my new job of January 2008. It is just so cruel.
My office phone has been ringing with the recruiters’ pleas to work with them. They promise me wonderful positions at strong pharmaceutical companies. The problem is that these jobs are all about an hour drive (if there wasn’t traffic) from my house and require travel. It is depressing to think that I will have to travel for work and thus, need to find someone the stay with the kids 30-40% of the time.
When I look at it that way, returning to nursing (night shift, weekends and holidays) seems within the running of possibilities. But I don’t think that I could ever get the pay that I need to keep up with my house payment. So, I guess that isn’t an option either.
There has to be something out there that will work. Perhaps, I could get a job as a blogger. I wonder if there is such a position for someone like me. I’d probably have to know a thing or two about other things besides running and bereavement. *sigh*
I let today go on as I watched the comments roll in regarding my latest challenge in 2007. I appreciate the encouragement and do realize that losing my job is not my biggest challenge of the year. It just adds insult to injury.
I tried to remain optimistic, but that only lasted until I hit the freeway.
As the commuter bus for the BIG company that is taking over the valley with their success drove past, I resisted the urge to give them the birdie. The folks at MY company are pretty sure that THAT company made an offer on OUR building that the Mother Company just couldn’t turn down.
Why is it that the little guy must get squashed by the success of the big guy? Why can’t they both co-exist and be friendly. But they are NOT friendly. They ride around on their little scooters, cutting off the cars on the road, jay walking, leaving their company-owned scooters where ever they like (for someone else to return to one of their many buildings), and are just plain rude whenever they are around the little guys. Do we hate them because of THEIR success, or because of OUR lack of it?
The reality is that it was not really the BIG, successful company next door that squashed us; it was really one of our own (the Mother Company). It’s sad but true. There was no way of escaping the inevitable (even by hiding out in the garage).