Bad times hit the good life
Sometimes one’s best intentions turn out to be irrational and unsuccessful.
And that’s why one might keep a box of red wine in the basement.
Go ahead, open it.
Lay off = ugh.
Yeah, lay off. AGAIN. I really wish the overly educated, middle-class driven, one percent controlled economy could get its act together already.
Since moving out west, I’ve had the unfortunate experience of a lay off twice. Each time, it was made completely clear that it was due to limited resources and in no way a reflection of my work, but it still hurts. The first time I was among over 200 City employees who were laid off. Critical employees including police and fire officers were about to be let go, so I understood how dire things were for that particular institution. This time, however, my layoff is more the result of missed opportunities and transitional leadership.
It’s a major bummer. Until yesterday, I worked with talented people who shared a common vision of strengthening community food systems. Regretfully, there wasn’t a way to bridge the gap between grants to allow me to continue full-time.
This comes at a time when I find myself at a crossroads.
Over the past year I’ve plunged into freelance writing - creative and nonfiction. I recently landed a contract as a short term grant reviewer. I’m pretty confident I can cobble together some meaningful work as a consultant over the next several months.
But consulting isn’t a job in the sense that a job-job is.
Diving into an unfamilar and rapidly moving river is scary.
Am I ready?
When I mentioned the lay off to a friend, she said, starry-eyed, “oh now you can be a stay-at-home mom!”
Hmmm. True. I could. And staying home with my boys would be incredibly rewarding and challenging in its own right. But that should be my choice and not a consequence of an undesired layoff.
I’ve worked since my eldest was three months old. I admire stay-at-home moms and have no idea how they keep sane when their kids are five and younger, and they don’t have a quiet office to which they can escape a few or more days a week.
So tonight I tip my glass of boxed wine into the fading light and toast to my professional future…whatever it may include.
P.S. I typically enjoy wine that is high quality and value-minded… desciptors like black current, vanilla, plum, blackberry and coffee come to mind. But on a 93 degree day in Portland, it’s dry white whatever all the way.