Roundabouts

Yesterday, I asked The Fella, "Hey, what do you want to do today?"

"Well, I have a doctor's appointment," he said.

"No, that's Monday."

"TODAY is Monday."

"No, today is Sunday!"

"Are you sure?"

"... well NOW I'm not!"

*****

I've been trying to build a routine for myself. I get up in the morning. I eat breakfast and have some coffee, and make a list of the things I want/ need to do, like attend to Afterwords.io (which you should totally be reading, by the way), and then troll the job boards and find things to apply for, and write a blog post, and snuggle with Lizzie, who inevitably wants to be in my lap, gnawing on the edge of my computer. 

It's the afternoons that get long and start to blend together.

*****

A word about looking for jobs: nothing will ever make you feel like you've chosen poorly in life like trying to find a job, because everything that's going to be posted? Is something you are in no way qualified for. In retrospect? Majoring in English was not, perhaps, the smartest thing I ever did. 

Hindsight. It's a bitch.

*****

So. The list completed, I begin to look for other things to do to fill the time. I play video games. I clean. I make candy (because now I'm obsessed with that). We had a Firefly marathon. I drink far too much Diet Coke. I've been rereading old Nora Roberts books because they all have happy endings and I need that in my life right now. 

And I worry. I try not to, but it's always in the back of my mind, a mouse gnawing away at any semblance of peace I am able to find. I will be engrossed in my book and it pops up: rent? Health insurance? Your meds are going to run out, you know... and then it scurries away. I can be laughing at something that happens during a movie and it runs out whispering, "You have bills and no income" and then it dashes back behind a corner.  It's worst when I'm trying to sleep, because then it can have a party. An "everything is wrong, you are wrong, you are stupid and everything is going to fall apart" party.

I don't believe the worry, mostly. I think worry likes to band together with depression and anxiety and they sing a song of lies, but ... 

But.

But I don't know what's going to happen. And it IS worrisome. So I snuggle down under the covers and try not to listen, but their chorus is very loud.

So I am very tired.

*****

And the days pass, all looking like each other, until I can't remember exactly what day it is. It's just another day on the roundabout, looking for and not finding my turnoff. 

I believe it will come. I believe.

I need it to come soon.

Community

You guys.

My hope for you, reading out there -- my Christmas wish, as it were -- is that you live among people as giving and generous and wonderful as the people I do. (Some of you? Are the people that this is about, so ... it's gonna get schmoopy up in here and I just need you to accept it.)

When I lived in North Carolina, I was lonely. I'd put myself in time out (it seemed reasonable) and I got some really good things out of that, like an amazing relationship with my parents which, as an adult, is kind of a big deal. You don't always get the chance to dive into your emotional closet, pull out the ugly and damaged bits, and mend them, but I did; as a result, I don't regret that time in any way. It was amazing and necessary.

But I didn't have a lot of friends, which was strange to me because I grew up with a community of people who were just ... there. Every time you turned around, there they were. All through preschool and elementary school and high school and in some cases? College! And grad school! You were never without your secondary family.  So suddenly finding myself without that was weird. Weird, and unbalancing.

Fortunately, there was Facebook. People who are all "social media is bad blah blah blah" don't know how much it can save you when you feel alone. I didn't have friends that I could go to dinner with, necessarily, but I had people I could talk to in an instant. I could feel like I was a part of things, even though I was nine hundred miles away.

Finally, I decided that I needed to come back to New England, and settle in my neck of New Hampshire. I felt like I belonged here.

And y'all -- you welcomed me. People I didn't KNOW welcomed me. The community embraced me. They didn't have to, but they did. Here, when someone knows someone who knows you? They offer you the shirt off their back.

So maybe I'm crying again (it's the first time today, though, so I'm winning), because ever since I said "Hey, I lost my job" the community here has been falling over themselves to help me. I've had offers of money, I've had people helping me to network, I've had suggestions and job applications and kindness and love and hugs pouring in from every direction that I look.  I anticipated sympathy. I did not anticipate this level of love and assistance and involvement.

I have the best life, job or no job. I have the best friends. And I have the best community, which is mostly right here but also? Spreads down to North Carolina and Florida and Texas. It goes up to Maine.  It extends to Japan.

I can't thank any of you enough for the love and help you have sent my way, so I will just promise to pay it forward.

Thank you, my beloved community.

Thank you.