Update: Timing

Timing sucks.

The past couple of years I have felt like I've been on a different clock than everyone else. Like, I'm off Daylight Savings while everyone else is on so I'm always running an hour behind. And then I'm on it when everyone is off, so I'm always an hour ahead (or would it be the other way around?). This isn't always a bad thing, not at all, but it's more strongly felt when it is.

You know all the stuff I've been through the past year--well, up until I just seemed to drop off the face of the planet and never wrote an update. You know about the bad timing that came with applying to grad school, and the bad timing with my previous job. You also know about my good timing when it came to finding a job after only a month of being unemployed--I had been expecting being unemployed for at least three months.

The four months that I've been working have been good timing. I came in at the right time, just when things started to build in the company, and just in time to prove my worth in order to start getting more responsibility and maybe move up.

I moved last month and that was good timing. It's a little cheaper, and in a house, which is nice.

I had bad timing a couple of weeks ago when I rushed out of the house to get to work and ended up getting in a car accident that totaled Perry. It wasn't my fault, and there were no injuries, but one of my first thoughts was that if I hadn't rushed so much, if I had left the house even a few seconds later, I would have gotten to work fine. And I wouldn't have had to deal with all the stress of talking to insurance and getting a new car (and getting things fixed on the new car). I wouldn't have dealt with the physical manifestations of that stress like sore muscles and a clenched jaw. I think for the moment I'm done though--once I get it registered. It started off pretty rocky, but I think Alfie's and mine relationship will get stronger as we go on.

I've had good timing when it comes to Baby E. Sis, Bro-in-law, and Baby E just moved back here, and I've been able to see Baby E's curiosity and her growth. She's a little mimic, and catches on to things so quickly that it seems like she's changing all the time. I'm glad that I get to spend this time with her.

And then there's bad timing when I finally get to the point when I can put myself out there and want to reconnect with someone and try to give it another go, but I missed the opportunity. Or maybe the timing was always off for us. It's hard when someone being happy means losing a friend and a hope.

I know that the way I plan things, or the timing I want to have, doesn't really matter in this huge plan that God has for me. But it's hard to put trust in Him and not just think that I'm the one that's messing everything up. Because I truly believe that if I keep on trying to do all the things I'm supposed to, and if I keep following the good thoughts that come into my head (even if they seem to turn out badly . . .) then God won't forsake me. He would never leave me on my own. His strength is the strength that I need most in my life, especially when I feel my strength leaving me.

There is nothing wrong with my timing being off. It just means that my life is part of this clock of humankind, the clock that really keeps the whole world turning and going.

Week One of My Unemployment

I've made it through the first week of being unemployed. I'm not sure how much longer I'll have, or can take, but I'm attempting to keep myself busy.

This week I would wake up in the mornings around 6:30 or so (because I don't feel as much like a bum if I do that), take a shower, dress, and do my hair and make-up. I'd read my scriptures while eating breakfast and then sit out on the desk to write. Or pretend to write while actually finding new ways to distract myself . . . This is a problem, but I'm just going to keep trying and hopefully I can learn to write for a couple of hours at a time with minimum distractions.

The mornings have been gorgeous and the perfect temperature. If only it stayed 75 throughout the entire day.

Every day I picked a different room in the apartment to clean. And then I'd go at it with a vengeance! It kept me busy and made me feel like I was actually doing something, but I was glad when M came home from work because it's also been a little tough. By Tuesday I couldn't wait to go out and see my friends in a play--I felt like I had been stuck in a hot apartment and needed to be out and about (which was exactly true).

You know back in the post-war days when married women weren't allowed to work? What did they do all day?! If they didn't have kids, it must have gotten really lonely. Of course, they probably volunteered or had other women to do things with, but still. A house can only be so clean, right? I am in a different situation (besides the whole not being married thing) in that I can't even go out shopping or decorate my apartment. I can't afford to. I don't want to drive too much, because gas. So I'm left with what I can do in my hot apartment. And it's hot because M and I are kind of cheap--even more so with me out of a job at the moment. Turning on our air-conditioning doubles our electricity bill, so we don't like to do it. 

Anyway, I'm finding ways to keep myself occupied. I decided to work on my penmanship and ordered the Specerian Penmanship Theory book and copybooks. I hope it works! It's tough because I have to change how I hold my pen (I've been doing it wrong my entire life, which I knew, but now I'm changing it) and so my hand kind of cramps up because I'm not used to that and the motions I'm making. I'm still doing the job searching thing, and I'll probably start reading more (or working on my embroidery more while binge watching shows . . .).

And so began the days of my unemployment . . .

Yesterday was my last day of work until I get hired someplace else. I thought that yesterday would be harder than it was--not that it wasn't hard . . . perhaps I mean I thought it would be more emotional than it was. And as I was thinking this over I think it's because I had a year of emotions already: crying and anger and peace and doubt. The past six months went by really fast, and all of a sudden I was in my last three days and I didn't quite know what to do with myself.

I think the hardest part was that not everyone was aware that I was leaving, or if they were, they didn't know that it wasn't exactly my choice. Which means that I had to explain it a lot, and I wasn't really sure how. The second hardest part was that inevitable question: "What are you doing next?" To which the only answer I had was "I don't know." Someone asked me that and then sent me an email apologizing for it. I responded and said that it was no big deal, I knew that people just cared and wanted to know. I was surprised when I received a response back and she said that I had a really positive attitude.

Here's the thing: I don't really feel like I have a choice.

What is a bad attitude going to do? It's not going to help me find a job; it's not going to get my job back. That's not to say that I haven't ever had a bad attitude over this because I have. It's to be expected, it's part of the grieving process. But when people are curious and care about you, what is having a bad attitude going to do but push them away? There are times when I don't want to talk about it because lately it seems like that's all I ever talk about and nothing has changed, but if I politely tell someone that I don't want to talk about it, they understand.

Anyway, to keep myself occupied until I get a new job, I've been trying to come up with some things to keep me busy and occupied. Of course, I'll be cleaning and organizing, etc. (I joked yesterday that I'm basically becoming a housewife but without the other income . . .) I'll also be working on my writing, and I have this crazy idea about working on my penmanship. I've never really liked my handwriting and I guess after working with 19th century documents, I want to have a pretty script. I have this idea that I just want to be this fancy person--a cute little writing desk, fountain pens, leather journal, wax seal (this has come true--I got one from the editors for a farewell gift!), etc. Sooo, basically I want to be someone who lived before the 1940s (which is when the ballpoint pen was invented).

Anyway, here are to the days of my unemployment, may they not last long.