Wordless Wednesday - 54

Photo by Lisa MacLeod

Rejoice!

What a difference one week can make.

Last Friday, I was so distraught I came home from work and cried for about an hour. I muscled my way through the weekend, every moment feeling like I knelt before the chopping block, waiting for the axe to fall. I made my way to work on Monday, my heart sinking with every step I took towards my office.

Allow me to explain.

The backstory: Having optimistically gone to film school, and my husband having graduated from acting school, we discovered after an eye-opening event that Brad has bipolar disorder. Over time, we found that he remains stable when he works a part time job, so I've become the main breadwinner. But I had film training, so my route to a full time, permanent job with benefits has been like Don Quixote, tilting at windmills.

At a particularly horrible time in my life, when I worked at a dollar store for a Simon Legree manager, my best friend Connie called me with an offer to be her assistant at her office. I can tell you how it felt exactly. It felt like the scene from Lord of the Rings when Sam is sinking and Frodo grabs his hand to pull him back to the surface.

With one phone call, Connie gave me that elusive office experience that is dearer to a person trapped in retail-worker poverty, than water to someone perishing from thirst. From a wonderful Cinderella time as her assistant, I went to a small office for eight excruxiating months. The boss was a snippy perfectionist who flew into snits, recognizing that I was on a rather steep learning curve. Every day I had to take a deep breath and force myself to take those steps over the threshhold. When he showed me something, I had to learn it immediately or else. So I did. Brad and I were barely squeaking by at the poverty line for a family of two.

I survived that boot camp experience, to land another office job with a dreamy manager and fabulous coworkers - but as a casual, still no benefits, still with enormous pharmacy costs each month to pay out-of-pocket. At least this time I'd climbed aboard the provincial government ship. Of course, getting hired as an actual, permanent employee with the province is all but impossible. Still, I applied for jobs I felt qualified for.

I lucked out by getting pulled aboard the government office I'm with now, again as a casual. Six months into that contract, I interviewed for my job - which was being made into a permanent position. I left for Toronto in October not knowing whether I had a job to come back to. As it turned out, I came in second. I went on unemployment, and in strange timing, was available to be with both my gram and my father-in-law as they passed away.

In January I got called back to the office, again as a casual. I was grateful to be back aboard, grateful to be in a position to once again apply for permanent positions, which I did. Again I came in second. The CEO's assistant took me to lunch to go over my interview, and she gave me feedback on what I could do at the next interview. Which I was grateful to get, even though I felt quite idiotic to need coaching.

I interviewed again - and once again came in second. I was crushed. Truly.

Brad's teeth began aching. He saw a dentist who said two root canals, for $2000.00 each, or two extractions for several hundred dollars each. The doctor put him on antibiotics in the meantime. And painkillers, too, of course.

I interviewed one more time. My manager went over my interview weaknesses beforehand, and once again I swallowed back my pride and was grateful for her generosity. I gave it an Oscar-calibre performance. Then I waited.

My contract was winding down. Still no word. No word. Hiring crawls at a glacial pace at the provincial level. My manager had to go to a conference, but told me not to worry. It's hard not to worry when I keep coming in second.

She got back from the conference, and still no word. My contract was due to end today. Last Friday I was on the edge of sanity. Was I heading into my final week of work? She'd told me when I didn't get the last position, that she wouldn't be able to extend this current contract past the 20th.

Meanwhile, the woman who won my old position started her job, with me training her. Of course she turns out to be a wonderful person. But it's very nerve-wracking to train her and not know if I'll last out the week.

So last week, I came home, sat on the couch with Brad and cried for an hour. He wrapped his arms around me, said not to worry, if I had to go on unemployment again, we'd get by somehow, like we always do.

Monday, I walked towards my office with a heart icing up with dread. My manager was so busy I barely saw her (she's managing our department, plus doing her actual HR job.) Tuesday, I walked towards my office with sweating hands and a rock-hard lump in my gut. My manager called the new woman into her office, and then me. Big, big sweat. Heart absolutely crushing inside.

First thing she said, waving a paper at me, was that the CEO's and Director's signatures were still drying on the approval, and she'd like to verbally offer me my current position. And that she hoped I would accept. (insert hysterically crazy laughter inside me that I had to keep from spilling out)

But wait - it gets better. She asked me - would I prefer my current position, or my old scanning position? I was stunned for a second, but quickly recovered and grabbed for that brass ring. I said I would love to have my old position back. So she switched us, easy as that.

When people quip, 'It's always darkest before the dawn', why does that always sound so poetic, but in reality feels like being tied to a stake in the arena, watching the grate roll up and the lions stroll out?

And now every cell in my body shimmers with rejoicing.

Writing Full Time

Life has been all over the place lately.

Before I went on my trip to Toronto in October, I interviewed for the scanning position I'd held for the past six months. It was a casual position, but my manager really liked my job performance and how well I fit in with everyone. So he opened the job up to a permanent position, which I then had to apply for, because with government jobs here in Nova Scotia he can't simply hire whomever he wants. Seventy-seven people applied for my job, and six people interviewed. A few days before my trip, I had my interview, which went well. But when Brad and I boarded the plane for Toronto, that was my last day at work.

So I had a wonderful trip to Toronto, saw a whole bunch of family and friends that I miss and spent precious time with his dad who is being treated for liver cancer. All the while not knowing if I had a job to come home to.


Got back, kept working on my novel and celebrated my gram's 93rd birthday. On Brad's birthday - the 7th - we went to a special mass for all those from the St. Agnes parish who'd had funerals there in the past year. My dad passed away this March, so Brad and I joined my step mom Doris, my sister Michelle, my step sister Rhonda, and Judy, close friend of my dad's & Doris in a very beautiful ceremony. Doris, Michelle and I went up together to light a candle for Dad when his name was called.

When Brad and I got back from the mass, Mom and I decided that Gram needed to see a doctor. She'd been losing power for that whole week, her legs just giving out so that whoever was shadowing her had to suddenly support Gram's whole weight. Earlier that day I'd had to call for Brad to help me, cause Gram just couldn't make it to her chair in the living room.

An ambulance came and Mom and I spent a late night in emergency until they had Gram all settled for the night. The next few days, Mom and I stayed with Gram in emergency until a bed opened up for her in the regular part of the hospital. At that point, we had to cut our visiting time down because the regular floors have set times for that. By my birthday on the 11th, we needed a break, so my aunt & uncle, and my sister and her boyfriend saw Gram that day. Brad, Mom and I went out for lunch and celebrated my day and then rested.

At that point I'd received the call from my manager about the job, but with very disappointing news. Human Resources gave him another person, even though he asked for me, especially since it was so close. This other person scored 2.5 points higher than me on the interview, so HR insisted she get it. He was so upset!

I was REALLY upset by that news. I've been working at non-benefits jobs for a very long time. With Brad only able to work part time due to his bipolar condition, my quest for a fulltime job with benefits had been so tantalizingly close. I was on pins and needles since that interview on Oct. 10th. The difference it would make for Brad and me is impossible to explain.

So when I heard that it was all back to the drawing board, I have to tell you I really felt low.

I'm waiting on my employment insurance, and Brad is still working, of course. But here I am with an opportunity to write fulltime for awhile, and I'm doing my best to look on the bright side of this whole situation.


For one thing, it's good timing that I'm available to help out with Gram right now. Mom and I spell each other off for visiting. Today is Mom's birthday so I'm taking both visiting shifts, afternoon and evening.

And because of my extreme allergies, I've always battled the effects that a fulltime job gives me due to long workhour exposures to the chemicals present in every office, especially toner, which just kills me. Both Mom and I have noticed how much better I am this past month that I haven't been working.

And Mom and I talked about this opportunity to write fulltime. I know for me the ability to be a fulltime writer has never existed because I need to be the main wage earner. But now it seems that I'm being given a gift, almost.

When one door closes, another one opens.