We’ve done this before (or I hope this is like riding a bike)

Several years ago, I wrote a series of three posts about how we’d managed on a single income in a very high cost of living area. You can read them here, here, and here.

I've been rereading them because we are back to one income again since Kent was laid off on Friday effective immediately.

In looking back over my blog posts from then, I don’t think I ever posted how that went down.

He got the news mid-morning at work. I was at home (we were living in a temporary apartment while reconstruction was—well it wasn’t happening yet but the insurance company mulling things over) because I still hadn’t found a job. He waited until he got home and we were sitting together so that he could be with me when he shared the news. He knew I would be completely undone and didn’t want me to be alone. That right there is what love looks like in our house. I was blown away that he held that news to himself and waited to share.

That night, we were both pretty anxious. I’d say freaked out but that’s not exactly right. Suffice it to say that we drank a bottle of wine pretty quickly as we watched a movie (I don’t even remember what we saw) and then a second bottle as we watched a second movie (again I have no idea what it was) and then I turned into a complete chatter box and thought we should open a third bottle of wine and maybe watch a third movie. By that point, Kent was nearly asleep on the couch. He managed to tell me that it was already midnight and that a third bottle of wine and a third movie didn’t sound like great ideas and could we please go to bed. If you know me, you know I rarely see midnight by choice so that tells you a lot about my state of mind.

The next day, I told my mother I’d earned every bit of that hangover, and I had.

So fast forward to the last couple of years. The company Kent worked for got spun off from another company two and a half years ago and has just never gained much traction. I told Kent two years ago that I was pretty surprised they hadn’t let remote employees go already. Having people work remotely in other states is expensive because the company has to pay state unemployment insurance and account for all the state, regional, city and local taxes. That all comes at a high price tag so for a company to pay for one employee in Arizona, one in Kansas, a couple in Ohio etc., well you’re not talking small change.

I guess they finally figured it out, since from the sounds of things all remote employees were laid off on Friday.

I will admit that my first reaction on Friday was gut churning fear. We came so close to losing everything we owned six years ago; even though we are in better shape today, that fear lingers. I’m still pretty anxious to be honest. Yes, I have a job with benefits (and I’m very thankful), and we should be OK (tight, but OK). But I’ve been here before and now I’m sort of waiting to see what else (bad) might happen.

Edited to add a soothing photo of Eddie from this morning. That way, when I reread these posts later on, I'll have something calming to look at.

It’s Saturday!

And tonight is Friday night.

Right now every day is Saturday and every night is Friday night.

So far this unemployment thing feels like a fantastic do very little kind of vacation. I’m sure along about August when I realize that it’s still Saturday and tonight’s still Friday night, I’ll get twitchy but right now it feels pretty damn good.

I’d planned to start prepping my fabric and patterns for the projects I want to get done this week. But one thing I know very well about myself—my best, most productive time of the day is first thing in the morning. And this morning I chose to spend it with Kent before he headed out for a week-long trip. So I’m just now all dressed and ready to face the day at the decadent hour of 10:30. Sewing will have to wait because fiddle dee dee, tomorrow is another day. And guess what? It will be Saturday.

Daily habits

The other night as Kent and I were getting ready for bed, he said he’d decided something if/when he is completely out of work. His last day with his current company is February 26, and so far opportunities are not exactly plentiful, so he could well be totally unemployed in about eight weeks.

Anyway, he said he’d decided that he would get dressed every day but then amended that rule to exclude shoes. Since most of his shoes didn’t survive the water damage, he doesn’t have a pair he considers entirely comfortable. So he thought wearing slippers would be acceptable. I told him in my experience, he might want to wear shoes at least half the time since otherwise he’ll lose the normal tough spots on his feet and when he needs to wear shoes, he’ll get blisters. Plus, if I hadn’t been wearing shoes when our apartment filled with water, I would have had to go barefoot in Boston and that is not a good thing.

After I had been out of work for a month or so, I devised my own list of behaviors and practices that I believed were both helpful and essential in staying calm and balanced during this time. So in no particular order, here they are:

1. Shower, put on make-up and get dressed every day—including shoes. This sounds like a no-brainer but I have friends in similar circumstances who don’t. Obviously if you don’t wear make-up normally, this item wouldn’t apply to you but I do normally wear it. And with the exception of three days, I’ve put it on every day.

2. Work out regularly. For me, that’s six days a week. I stay fit, plus exercise is a fantastic mood-booster. And I certainly have the time for it.

3. Stay connected to friends and family. Most of the time, this connection is virtual because let’s face it, plane tickets are expensive and even driving somewhere isn’t cheap. But the internet makes staying connected very easy, assuming your friends and family are also online.

4. Keep your brain active. I read a lot, and I started this blog entirely for myself. Writing is a great way for me to both process what’s going on in my life and also use my brain.

5. Get back to your cheap hobbies. For me, that’s sewing although if I’m not careful I can spend a lot on fabric or patterns. So now finding super cheap patterns and fabric I like at low prices becomes part of the process. The fabric store I go to here in Boston has two giant tables filled with out of date patterns. Vogue patterns are $5 each, and the rest are only $1. Most of the time, the out of date patterns suit my purposes just fine.

6. Get outside pretty much every day. I don’t always do this here in Boston, mostly because the weather can be uncooperative. However now that we are in temporary quarters, I’ve got a built-in errand I have to do regularly—pick up the mail at our apartment. That’s about a half mile walk each way.

7. Keep regular waking/sleeping hours. I don’t know about you, but I find that if I stick to regular bedtimes and regular wake-up times, I am generally a lot better rested. Plus if/when I get a job, I don’t want to go through a week or so of adjusting to getting up at a normal working day time. Returning to work will be a big enough adjustment for me, why add to it?

I’m hoping Kent isn’t actually out of work or that if he is, it’s only for a week or so. I was glad, though, that he has already started thinking about his own routine should that happen.

Elizabethology ahead

I posted a status update on Facebook regarding Kent’s job status—it’s looking quite grim, although he hasn’t yet received the “official” word. Add to that my two years of unemployment and our recent flood, and I think it’s clear why I said I was contemplating changing my name to Job.

But I was bothered by some of the comments my status received, the ones that were over-the-top positive thinking clichés. I don’t understand why people think offering clichés and platitudes would help someone who’s gotten bad news. I realize negative emotions and negative responses can be awkward to hear or see, but the reality is humans experience a wide range of emotions and some aren’t pleasant.

Of course Kent and I know of others who are in similarly dire if not worse situations. That doesn’t ease our situation. After all, pain isn’t graded, and this is our crisis right now. We are still reeling, and may be for a while.

I did get one completely fantastic comment: By the way, speaking as another one of the 10% families, you're allowed to have moments of wallowing in Job even as we all keep telling you to think positive. If you don't balance the two, you will go mad.

She is right and more than that, her words comforted me. She acknowledged the awfulness of our situation, and she didn’t tell me I would feel better tomorrow or even that everything will be OK. The sad reality is, we may not be OK. We’ll bust our butts to avoid that outcome, but the possibility is there.

So on to the Elizabethology bit. If you have friends who share bad news with you, don’t offer useless clichés. Just acknowledge the situation. Sympathize with them, and let them vent. Swallow the platitudes, or if you lack that discipline, at least write them down to be shared much later. Hopefully you will come to your senses before then, and delete the letter.

The recession’s not over

Most of the time when I submit my resume for a job opening, it disappears forever into the ether. Some companies send an auto-generated response acknowledging I’ve applied but that’s less common than you might think.

I’ve been given varied reasons why I haven’t gotten the job. Here are a few of my favorites.

“The job is too small for you.” I was overqualified for this job but I loved what the company did, enough that I didn’t mind taking a step or two back. At each stage of the interview process, I answered the same questions about being overqualified. I thought I did a good job letting them know why I was interested in the position, because I really wanted to get a foot in the door. Apparently my foot was too big.

“The person who left the job came back.” Dressed for the interview, I was almost out the door when the recruiter called me and said don’t come. Apparently the woman who’d left the job decided almost immediately she’d made a mistake and asked to come back.

“We’ve realized what we really need is a technical writer.” I interviewed separately with the two people I’d have been working with. During those two hours, I grew very uneasy about the job because the two of them didn’t agree on what they needed the person they hired to actually do. I asked them a lot of questions about what the immediate need was, what they needed from the successful candidate, and what their skills where. Ironically I am pretty sure I helped them pinpoint what they did need—a tech writer—while making sure I didn’t get the job.

And finally this week I got a new reason: “We have stopped all hiring.” This job was with the same company that told me the job was too small for me. I’m kind of proud of myself for trying with them again even though I was rejected once already. That should show you how much I like what the company does! They did some headcount reductions this year but their booked business for 2010 is good. They thought they were financially healthy enough to bring on another two trainers, but after a lengthy interview process where again I was a finalist, this week they realized they need to freeze all hiring for the foreseeable future.

For those of you who have jobs, be thankful. For those who don’t, I share your pain. And for all of us, here's a relaxing picture of Eddie. That cat sure knows how to snooze.