It’s been an interesting few days since I’ve posted. Things have happened that just make me want to go, “Seriously?” I mean, it isn’t just one thing–it’s a lot of things. All at once. Well, in the last week.
Last Wednesday, at about quarter of five, Dear Husband called to tell me that he too has become part of the latest wave of workers who have joined the unemployment statistics.
Seriously? Aren’t we supposed to be coming OUT of a recession? Mind you, this was on the tail of me getting laid off in September. Granted, I freelance, so it doesn’t “count” but every September, my former agency has done an awesome job of putting me back out in the field. This September, they put me out to pasture and closed the Philadelphia office. Originally it was, “No worries, something will come along.” I didn’t realize it would be a pink slip for my husband.
Now I also get to join the thousands of Americans whose health insurance is in question. Dear Husband had an appointment for a certain procedure that all people are supposed to get when they turn a certain age. It involves drinking some strange liquids and basically purging the body of EVERYTHING. Okay, I’ll be sleeping on the couch that night. No, wait, HE will. Now we kind of look at each other and think “pre-existing condition?” Same with me. I’ve had several friends and family members who’ve had appointments with oncologists to remove the consequences of decades of sunbathing with baby oil. I vividly remember a friend telling me if I would just let myself get “past” the burning stage, I would start tanning like everyone else. Do I need to tell you I am a red head with freckle? There isn’t any other stage for us EXCEPT burning. I remember TOO many nights going to sleep in tee-shirts that reeked of Noxema. I don’t know why my family thought that minty feeling cream would feel good against the blisters–maybe the scent would relax me as the blisters popped? Or maybe they just didn’t like me very much. We’ve sorta already established that my family is a bunch of freaks.
Anywhooo–the dermatologist. I decided to make the appointment to have the “body scan.” My girlfriend explained it pretty much involves disrobing to bra and panties (don’t worry H, I’ll make sure they match for this appointment) and having a doctor look at your entire body with a magnifying glass. Should I start with body image therapy now or after the doctor finishes? Of course, now we are looking at it as “recission.”
So that procedure will also probably wait until Dear Husband has a group insurance plan.
Then, over the weekend, (NOTE: this part isn’t part of the drama, but I’m getting there) I had a WONDERFUL TIME AT THE WOMEN OF FAITH CONFERENCE IN PHILADELPHIA. Yes, I’m shouting. I’m still filled with glee. Seriously! I got to go down and attend with some of my very favorite people in my life. We even got to (gasp) spend the night away from our children. That alone was worth the price of admission. I do need to point out that in the future, only ONE person should be in charge of directions. Having 3 women shouting out directions while a 4th was calling her husband did make it a little stressful. And, as H pointed out, you can really tell a lot about a Women of Faith Conference by how courteous (or not) the women are when you are trying to get out of the parking lot. Or maybe the other cars heard the 3 women yelling directions at me and were just really scared about my driving. No, the conference was great and even the ride home was enjoyable once I was certain I was going the right way on 95.
Do I need to point out, again, that I drove home? I even drove a friend to the train station and then continued to drive home. I parked my car in front of my house, got out and hugged my kids and haven’t seen my keys since then. Seriously?
Originally, I wasn’t too worried. I figured they were in one of the bags. Or got dropped on the sofa and fell in the cushions. Or something really logical. But I’ve looked in all the really logical places. Now I’m getting illogical. Like under the radiator. The refrigerator. The washing machine. I emptied out the laundry hamper to see if they might have fallen in there and now, great, I might as well do the laundry since I pulled it out.
It is now Wednesday and still no keys. So if someone can explain how I can lose keys while walking up a sidewalk, I’d appreciate it. And if any moms that I drove home are suddenly in possession of a ring of keys that they can’t identify, HELLO? They are mine.
Not to end the drama–I got to spend Sunday with a broken computer. I know, it so rarely happens to a Macintosh. But it did. I thought, according to the hardware test, that the logic board was going (costs more than the computer) but after unscrewing 52 tiny screws, I opened it to discover one of my fans wasn’t working. I used a very light amount of percussive maintenance (I tapped the fan) and it started.
While my computer is no longer randomly shutting off because it is overheating, it does still have some problems (hard drive too small and back up drive too small) but at least it works. And I haven’t yet put the 52 tiny screws back in, so I’m sitting in a low chair with the computer way up high, working on a nice future medical case of carpal tunnel syndrome (no insurance for you).
I also, while drinking coffee on Monday, I bumped the mug against my mouth and chipped a tooth. Like I said, “Seriously?”
Ironically, through all of this, I’ve remained frighteningly calm. I mean, our 5-figure salary just went down to $558/week. Granted, that does still work out to be an annual 5-figure salary, but a MUCH smaller 5-figure salary. And yet, I’ve remained calm. I have to admit, there is a still small voice telling me that everything is going to be okay. I try to be open to knowing what God wants me to do. And if I have to work a 40-hour a week job, writing isn’t going to be what I’m doing. At least for right now.
On Friday, before I left for Women of Faith (incase you didn’t realize how FREAKIN’ AWESOME it was, I’ll be posting more about it later), I sent my resume to another contracting agency. They called me on Monday. And then, “by accident” they sent me another job that is working from home. That pays more. And it’s the same project manager running the job so he submitted me to both jobs. And one of them, an unnamed pharma company that I may or may not have done work for in the past, WANTS TO INTERVIEW ME ON FRIDAY.
Will the jobs give me insurance? No, but at least they will keep the wolves at bay for a little longer. Keepin’ the faith. Seriously.
Now I’m going to shut down the computer and reinsert the 52 screws so my wrists stop hurting.