Time

            Whoever you may be as you read this, you don’t need me to tell you that priorities can change in an instant. I thought the biggest worry I’d have this week was trying to find a new job in what is still a fairly lousy job market. As it turns out, that wasn’t close to correct.

For the first time, I filed for unemployment Monday. Friday had gone quietly as had the rest of my last week at work. Several people said goodbye, and some seemed to avoid me, like being laid off was communicable. I packed up my stuff from my desk. I didn’t have much, just a picture of my nephew, a couple of knick knacks some thank you cards a few members of my crew had given me.

            I walked out the door, across the street and out to the parking lot feeling empty. I had done an exit meeting that Tuesday, which gave me the documents I’d need to file for unemployment, which I could do Monday. I saw those sitting on the passenger seat and tried not to think about it too much. I did my usual trip to Barnes and Noble, read my usual magazines, drank my usual summertime iced coffee order, looked at the usual history, biography and sports sections of the store and headed home a few hours later. I did my best to make it a normal weekend.

            Monday morning I checked my email, saw no messages from prospective employers but no rejection messages either, and headed to the WorkOne office. They had me fill out a two-sided form that reminded me of when you visit a new doctor or dentist. I gave them all the vital info as well and gory details of why I was there. After that it operated a lot like a license branch. A number was called and I approached a woman sitting at a computer, who typed in my information, gave me a card with a few websites listed on it as well as a couple of brochures about their work training programs.

            After that she sent me to a desk lined with computers where I could officially file. It took about fifteen minutes, and they had a couple of very friendly people walking around helping out the folks who had any trouble. I have to admit, from what I saw they ran a pretty efficient office there.

The woman assisting the applicants told me I’d have to apply for three jobs a week or do job searches a few times a week, and that looking anywhere in the United States was acceptable. I knew that would be no problem whatsoever.  I’d already compiled a list of places from careerbuilder in a couple of different states.

            She said it would be a couple of weeks before I knew how the claim came out, meaning I would have no idea how much my maximum or weekly benefits would be. I’ll have to spend the next couple of weeks in the dark budget-wise. I finished filling it out and thanked them. As I walked back to my car I tried to think of what I could do the rest of the day. I felt lost, and I hated the feeling.

            I went to the public library, but the sign on the door said they were temporarily closed due to sewage issues. I take sewage issues fairly seriously so I headed on home. I scoured some sites again, saved a few jobs in Texas that looked promising, and otherwise allowed myself an some time to lay around and feel sorry for myself.

            More resumes were sent out Tuesday, and more waiting ensued. Each day is a cycle of searching, applying, and waiting for my phone to light up, or a (1) to appear in my email inbox that will being interested from someone. I fiddle with cover letters, nitpick my resume, and hope.

            In the meantime, I tried to write, I tried to see friends, I tried to get to the gym. I continue to try to live my life normally and I try extremely hard not to take all this personally. Sometimes I succeed. Sometimes I don’t.

            On Wednesday morning, my phone did light up. It was my mom, who was traveling with my stepfather in Michigan, visiting good friends. As it turned out, my stepfather had run into some health issues and was going to be in the hospital a few days. He was all right. The doctors knew what was wrong and how to treat it, and things were already looking better by the time mom got hold of me. I thanked her for letting me know what was happening and asked her to keep me updated.

            My stepfather is the best man I know. Hearing he was experiencing more health problems made me pause. I sat outside on my balcony and thought for a while. He’s my rock, the person I turn to when I need advice. Every day I struggle, every day I can’t find a new job, every time I come up short when it comes to relationships or otherwise in day to day life, I feel like I’m disappointing him. I can’t stand that thought, but I feel it every day.

So I’m grateful to the doctors for taking good care of him, because I need him. My mom, his wife of 27 years, needs him. My sister and my nephew need him. His kids and grandchildren from his first marriage need him. My stepfather is a tough man. I feel confident he’ll be all right and keep on going, because that’s what he does.

As for me, I need that time. I need that time to get back on track and make him proud of me again. Somehow. Some way.

We all just need some time.