My first full day of forced unemployment… or as I prefer, disemployment. I woke up at the same time as Mr. P, determined to keep up appearances and jumped straight into the shower. Mustn’t let personal hygiene slip into chaos, after all! But then, an unexpected wave of emotion hit as I glanced into my sock drawer. Last week, I’d hurriedly rolled my socks, convinced that I couldn’t waste precious time on such trivial tasks. Now, time is the one thing I have in abundance.
I spent a good part of the day fielding emails and IMs from concerned former co-workers, colleagues, friends, and family. Most carried the energy of a frantic scream, the kind where someone runs at you full speed, yelling right into your face. “BAHHHHH! LAY-OFF! RESUME, INTERVIEWS, REFERENCES, DECAYING ECONOMY! BAHHHHH! NETWORK! NETWORK! BAHHHHH!” My nerves hummed, strained by the chorus of panic.
A younger version of me would have jumped headfirst into the chaos—firing off resumes for half the jobs on Monster.com, listing possessions on eBay to scrounge up cash, already calculating how many loaves I could bake from industrial-sized bags of flour.
But today, on Disemployment Day #1, I took a different route. I rolled my socks properly, and made myself a decent cup of coffee. Because if I’m going to weather the storm of unemployment, it won’t be by flailing with the wind. It’ll be by standing still for a moment, breathing deeply, and knowing that not every second needs to be productive to have value.
