School of The Universe

There I’ve been feeling all alone thinking about making another large life change.  In the last 18 months, what number large change is this?  Five, Six?  I’ve lost track.  Truly, it ain’t easy finding flexibility in my soul when the rug is yanked out from under me.  It’s a bad-ass balancing act.  It makes me tired and numb.

This time around, I was thinking about leaving school, where I’ve been in “worker retraining” for the last year.  What that expression means is that I was a worker, then my job type was booted out of the workforce along with me, and then presented with an alternative to long-term look-for-invisible-work unemployment– get into a “retraining” program.  It’s a generous part of the system that was developed in the 80s after the fisheries and lumber industries crashed.  Those folks watched their jobs evaporate, and some brave souls lobbied for the opportunity that I now enjoy–being in full-time training while collecting unemployment.

(I’m no flag-waver, but I have lived,  traveled, and worked outside this country–this IS a great country with fabulous people and opportunities.)

Lemmee tell ya, at 54, this is no picnic.  For a lot of reasons.   ‘Nuther time for those.

The point of this story is that the unemployment folks and I hit a glitch where they didn’t see a form I had sent in, so they booted me out of the program.  This Monday.

Today, I needed to be with my peeps at my former employer’s for a different reason–see later post–and I came away energized from all those encounters.  This business was hit exceedingly hard–it has gone from 160 employees to about 80.  Just now they are starting to hire a little…. bubbling in the right direction.  Also, something else that happened as I wandered the halls visiting with so many wonderful people who were my colleagues, I heard several stories that folks had been asking if I could come back to cover for my colleague while she takes vacation days (she and I were the department of document reviewers).  The answer from the manager was always the same, that “she has moved on and won’t be back.”   Today, there I was, hearing those snippets of recalled conversation from last week.

So here’s the timeline:

  • Last week I got serious about thinking about finding a job instead of being in school.    (Just thinking about it; I didn’t actually  do anything!)
  • Last week made that stooooopid 80-mile round-trip drive to Big City to get my landscape design drawings and they weren’t even there.  Turns out the instructor found them where they had fallen behind a stand of some sort at his house.
  • Midweek last week I got a call from the unemployment folks who needed me to submit some info, which I did within an hour of the call.
  • Also last midweek, my wonderful Big Mister and I went to a local taco wagon where I spilled my heretofore private worries about school/work/relative broke-ness/my age.  (His response was what I needed to hear and really why I fell in love with him 13 years ago–he was sorry that I’d spent time worrying about all this, especially alone, because he has found that worry doesn’t help and that he has always gotten what he’s needed when he needed it. )
  • Monday, the unemployment people sent me the You’re Booted letter.  (Yes, but I did what you asked!?)
  • Wednesday, I told the folks where I’m finishing a fabulous internship that I wouldn’t be returning to school and would be looking for work instead.  Keep us in mind, says the manager.
  • Today, Thursday, at my former workplace, I told everyone who asked me how school was going–see how wonderful they are?  I’ve been away for 1-1/2 years and they still remember what I’m doing.  I got to tell them about going back into the job market….
  • I saw my former manager and she related those stories, about how she had to tell people that I had moved on.  By the time I was leaving the office, I had been asked if I’d like to work in about a month’s time.

Silly me, I wasn’t alone in those agonies.  ‘Member what I said about co-ink-i-dinks?  That I am not amazed so much as accepting?   This time I’m amused at myself.

Doink, doink, doink, that’s the sound of my head being hit with the butterflies of interconnectedness.  OK, OK, I’ll stop struggling.

And, thanks for the help, Universe.  I needed that.

©  No Stealing!  That’s what the little c in the circle means!
© lahgitana and Rockin’ the Purple, 2011. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to lahgitana and Rockin’ the Purple with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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