Keepin' It Real

You may want to sit down for this one, because this one could get a little heavy.

From the moment I started writing a blog on my journey through unemployment, I’ve tried to be as honest as humanly possible.

(Of course, the blog is anonymous, so I guess I’ve managed to leave out one little detail.)

I’ve always tried to express exactly how I’m feeling through this miserable roller coaster ride, whether its a good day or a bad minute.

Well, this morning I am throwing a pity party and you are invited.

Let me cut to the chase.

I’m really starting to believe that I will never get a job again.

At least not a job in the industry that I called home for 25 years.

I’ve never asked for sympathy and I’m not about to start now, but I’m just expressing the sinking feeling that is on my mind this morning.

Whatever took place two weeks ago might as well be two years ago at this point.

Yes, that phone could ring at any moment, but I’m pretty worn out from the shoulda, coulda, woulda.

I feel like I’ve over-exhausted every contact I have ever made and over-used every resource that’s out there.

I've called. I've re-called.

I've emailed, I've re-emailed.

I even tried the "I think my internet was down, so I'm not sure if you got my last email."

This is getting old and I'm getting tired.

In a new HBO Documentary, Magic Johnson scored the greatest point of his career when he said he found out who his real friends were when became HIV positive.

He literally cried the entire time he was saying it.

The tears coming out of his eyes matched the ones coming out of mine.

I can't relate to his exact situation, but I can definitely relate to his point.

I have an incredible support system and a growing group of friends who have provided the real love that John & Paul used to write about.

I don’t think I’m special and I certainly don’t think that I am owed anything, but I know that I am really good at what I do.

Or actually, what I used to do.

I just can’t understand what happened.

Honestly, I don’t get it.

I wrote the first draft of this blog on a lined sheet of paper, standing in the dark in my kitchen, kinda like a suicide note.

WHICH IT IS NOT!

I still have plenty of lust for live, it’s just my career that is dead.

And it breaks my heart.

What did I do to deserve this?

What did any of my unemployed colleagues do to deserve this?

When I say that I am open to taking on a new job in a new field, I am being totally sincere.

I don’t need the glamour that TV provided.

I certainly don’t need the stress either, but I do miss being creative.

I love grocery shopping, I really do, but there’s not a lot of room for being creative there.

I don’t mind doing the dishes either, but I think I’ve mastered how to get the most items in one load.

The bottom line is, I want to work.

I love being a stay-at-home dad and all of the amazing opportunities that have come with it, but with every day that I am staying at home, I feel like a big part of me is disappearing.

I don’t have any regrets, well perhaps, I don’t have many regrets, but what I’ve learned is that living in the past can destroy you.

In a hurry.

Weekend Warrior

Saturday has quickly become my least favorite day of the week.

Of course, when I working, the weekend used to be the best time – a time to catch up on the busy week and just enjoy the precious time with my wife and kids.

Now, as a member of the unemployed, Saturday is a time to re-live the misery of the previous five days as we analyze my wounds.

It usually starts first thing in the morning, with my wife going over a checklist of how the week went.

Update on the kids. Check.

Update on her work. Check.

Maybe a chat about a movie or something in the news. Check.

But the whole time, I hear a clock ticking in my head, like I am watching 60 Minutes.

Then, as it always does, BOOM -- a bold, underlined, italicized reminder that I am unemployed.

Let me make one point very clear, my wife has been the most supportive person during this miserable episode – constantly giving me a positive face and positive reminders of what we have.

I know she means well and genuinely understands that I got screwed.

Well, WE got screwed.

But no matter the circumstances of my demise, the message is, we need to push forward.

I try to remind myself of that every time our Saturday morning pep talk ends.

But even with all the positive support, every time she gives me more feedback on what I should be doing, it makes me feel like a failure.

“Did you call this person?”

“Did you follow-up with that person?”

“What do you think about ________?”

I don’t consider myself an insecure person, but each time I hear those questions, I feel like I am on the witness stand.

Believe me, I know how lucky I am to have somebody in my life asking me those questions --- every week. It will really be sad the Saturday that those questions stop.

Of course, even with my genuine appreciation for what she has to say, the bottom line is it just makes me feel bad.

I must be living on Denial Avenue, but I truly believe I have done everything I can to find a new job.

I have made the calls.

And followed up with the emails.

AND reached out to people.

Again and again AND again.

Today’s reminder was timing is everything. You want to be on their mind when the opening comes up and sending a “checking in” email can do that.

She also said, you don’t want to stalk them.

Fine line there.

I’ve been on the other side, when the “checking in” emails are in your inbox, not outbox, and she is right about one thing, timing is everything.

I have hired persistent people, who won’t take no for an answer.

I have also refused to hire people, who won’t take no for an answer.

As for my situation, I really don’t know what more I can do.

Knowing that “something is going to work out” is really not something I can buy into anymore.

Do I believe something is going to work out? Yes, I really do.

Am I tired of hearing that something is going to work out? YES!

What’s really sad here is that the one person who has been the most supportive is the person who has the most invested in this and I am not embracing it.

Saturday is usually a day for partying, but I just wish it wasn’t a pity party.