Since things are iffy with my job situation, I've been doing what I do best - figuring out all the possible worst case scenarios. Now I don't just look at the downside - I look for possible fixes. First, it occurred to me that I might find two roommates and they could each rent out one of the "real" bedrooms. Surely I can live in the over-sized closet that delusional real estate agents list as a third bedroom. Granted, I can't even fit a full-sized sofa in there, much less a bed, but I can sleep on the love seat. When one can't afford food, maybe one gets shorter as well as thinner? Come to think of it, possibly I could rent that room out, too, and live in the walk-in closet if that won't disturb the renter for the master bedroom.
Second, I search for job possibilities. Naturally, no one in my field will hire me, regardless of my advanced degrees and years of experience. In fact, I'm sure there are no jobs in my field. Anywhere. So I take note that Macy's is hiring. And surely I could drive a pizza delivery truck! Given my complete klutziness, I think waiting tables would be a hospital room waiting to happen, but I could be a hostess. I know how to smile and I could probably show people to a table if I don't have to carry anything more fragile than menus.
Or I could just accept that I'm a loser and give up and move back to my hometown and live with my father and annoy him. I would be a hermit and never go out, just cook for my father (who hates my cooking) and read long Russian novels about lives filled with gloom.
Well, even I finally got bored of thinking about my doomed future and decided to think about what happened when past jobs ended. One of my early jobs was with a small newspaper in New York. The two owners ran the place and one of them was bucking for worst-karma of the century. (Shortly after I left the job, the building where the paper was housed caught on fire. The fire department evacuated the building and as this was happening, this particular owner called in. When he was told what was going on, he informed the staff that if any of them left their desks, he would fire them! That's the kind of charmer he was.) I only stayed at the job for a month, but left with some great stories, one of the best being about my departure. I gave the (other) owner two hours notice. As I was walking out, the receptionist said to me, in all seriousness, "I can't believe you're leaving! You've been here so long." A month. (We did have several people who would start at 9:00 and quit by 11:00, so I understood.)
Thing was, I didn't have another job lined up. Nada. I'm living in NYC, a somewhat expensive locale, and I was suddenly, and of my own volition, unemployed. Did I tuck my tail between my legs and flee? No. I cried for a couple of days, but had another job by the end of the next week.
A few jobs later (this was when I was young and had jobs - not a career), I was working for yet another despicable character. In truth, most of my bosses have been wonderful, but the monsters do stand out. He walked into my office and asked about a project I'd been assigned. As I'd been asking for clarification from him for weeks, and had gotten nothing, I'd made no progress. He threw a file at me and stormed out. I typed up my resignation, picked up the phone, made a call and said, "I'm leaving my job. Have anything for me?" Told that I'd start something the following week, I waited until 5:00, walked into his office, put my resignation on his desk, and left the job.
Problem is, when one is just starting out and has the youthful delusion of nothing but happy endings, one is more excited than terrified by endings. Aside from the comfort of ignorance and the fact that, actuarially, one has more years ahead in which one can fail (or succeed), is there really much difference between being in one's twenties and being in one's ... more than twenties? Granted, it's been years since I led my entire non-unionized department in a walk-out to protest work conditions (which we were successful in changing), but it was only last year that I took a trapeze class. I still take chances, even if they are different ones. And while I now more fully realize the enormity of possibilities for failure, I also more fully realize the inevitability of change and the certainty that nothing remains all good - or all bad.
Thus, with my somewhat tempered perspective, I'm trying to look at the best-case scenarios as well as the worst. Nonetheless, I have that "roommates wanted" ad composed, even if only in my head.
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