To-Do: Find Something Creative

Okay, so I'm still jobless.

Everyday I search for new jobs, but where I live, it's just slim pickins.  Instead of getting further down in the dumps, I decide I'm going to be creative in the kitchen.

If I'm not working, the least I can do is have an awesome meal waiting for My Husband and McKenna when they get home from a long day at work and preschool.

I try new things.  Some work (crock pot lasagna!) and somethings will never work for me (baked chicken in any flavor).  I make dinner every weeknight except Fridays.  The household is mostly happy and laundry is usually done.  My day looks like this:

• Wake up
• Get McKenna ready for school
• Take her to school
• Come home and search for jobs
• Play with Max because he's begging for attention
• Fix lunch
• Clean up lunch
• Search for jobs
• Start laundry
• Fold laundry
• Watch Ellen
• Play with Max
• Start dinner
• Get McKenna from School
• Eat dinner
• Clean kitchen
• Bath time
• Husband time
• Sleep

It's okay, but My Husband notices I'm not the same.  I'm not necessarily sad all the time, but I'm sort of shut off.  Like, I'm just going through the motions.  One task to the next like a machine.  I'm quit in the evenings after being alone all day long.  He talks to me about maybe going to the Wellness Center (county gym), just to get out of the house.  The Good Lord knows I can use any type of exercise, so it wouldn't hurt, but I had to remind him I DON'T HAVE A JOB.

The Wellness Center costs $45 a month and I'm bringing in about zero income.  

Of course, he's the smart, logical one and I'm the cute one.  He tells me that if I go to the gym at least 3 days a week, it would be about $4 each time I go.

Well!  When you break it down like that...

October 31st I went to the Wellness Center to pay for my first month and initiation fee.  I was given the tour and I scheduled an hour with a personal trainer for my "fitness prescription".  While I was being given the tour, I noticed something strange...unlike a place like Gold's Gym where it's meathead after meathead at the gym, pumping iron and scoping out the ladies, this place...The Wellness Center was totally opposite.  Aside from the trainers, I was the youngest person in the gym by at least 15-20 years.  If I had to guess, the average age of a gym goer would be 53.

I'm going to love this place!  It's not a meat market and these older folks don't care what I look like, what I'm wearing or even that my socks don't match each other!  Also, it was spotless and smells like bleach every time you walk in.  The machines aren't run into the ground and everything in the place is generally really nice!

Also.  ALSO!  They offer classes!  I'm going to really like this whole "exercising" thing!

So far, I've gone no less than 4 days a week for no less than an hour each time!  I lost 4 pounds in the first two weeks and I can really feel a difference.  I just want to get a few months of this under my belt (or out of my belt) so that it's more like a "lifestyle".  That's what all the really fit people tell me.  "Once you do it for a while, it's a lifestyle change and not a chore"...

Overall, I love going, but don't you think for one second that all those older people are always super nice...

To-Do: Find A Job (Part II)

After the whole scam on craigslist, I was really hesitant of applying for jobs that way.  I had to do something more old fashioned.  Get back to the basics of job hunting.

Search online for county and city positions.  Wait!  Did you think I was going to go door to door?  I said back to the basics, I probably should have specified "in this decade".

That's the problem though.  Everything is so tech savvy.  Nothing is "old fashioned".  Dropping resumes and speaking with a live person, face-to-face is a thing of the past.  Nearly everywhere you look there's a website where you can apply.  It all happens with the click of a button and the uploading of your paperwork (resume, cover letter, etc.).

This method works out great for people who might be agoraphobic, or maybe the mother who lived in a shoe with so many children she couldn't ever leave the shoe to find a job.

I on the other hand, am neither of those things, so I'm just starting to get irritated.  And deflated.  And bummed out.

At this point, I've now applied for a total of three county jobs and two city jobs, none of which I snag up.  To give myself some credit, I had not one, but TWO stellar interviews with the County Tax office.  I thought I had that job in the bag, but they found someone with tax experience.  The ONE part of that job I didn't know, like I know Twas The Night Before Christmas.

*POP* <---that was my bubble...

I've GOT to think of something.  The end of October is sneaking up on us and My Husband and I talked about pulling McKenna out of preschool if I didn't have a job by November.  It makes no sense to keep paying over $400 a month to keep her there if I'm not working and I can teach her beyond what she's learning there.  - Aside:  I'm not a teacher, but this is her second year in Pre-K since she won't be 5 until December.  She's bored to tears learning her ABC's again.

The next few weeks is basically a wash-rinse-repeat of everything I've already talked about.  I've had a handful of interviews at a few different places, but nothing seems to pan out.  I've gone to Temp to Hire Agencies and just about anything in between that would fit with my specific criteria.

I know I'll find something, but in the mean time, what am I going to do with myself?

To-Do: Find a Job (Part II)

Alternate Title:  Why Craigslist is a Complete and Utter Asshole

HOOO LEEEE CHIT!

I got an email.  From someone I sent my information to from craigslist.

In a nutshell, the email said:

Hi, girfriend!

I checked out your stuff and OMG, you like, totally blew me away with all of your awesomeness!  I can't wait to meet with you in person, but before that, I want you to click on this link and take a minute to fill out our online questionnaire (which I know you will totally ACE).

Talk to you soon!

Kisses,
Wewanna Giveyouajob

Naturally, after doing the happy dance in my NotYetUsedForYoga pants, I hopped online and showed that questionnaire who's boss.

The questions were all pretty standard of those you would answer in person at an interview.  One of them, specifically was "Do you agree to have your credit checked and/or a background check in order to be hired on with our company", to which I obviously answered HELLL YESSSSS!

SUBMIT


I wait for my confirmation screen to tell me that I've got the job (or won Publisher's Clearing House).  Nothing.

Suddenly, a screen opens up and says "You agreed to have your credit checked and/or background checked to be hired.  Please click the link below.  Be sure to fill in each screen completely and click next.  By skipping or omitting any information, your candidacy will be withdrawn".

Fine.

The link takes me to a credit website.  I'm asked to put in all of my pertinent information.  Name, address, phone, social secwait.  What?

backspacebackspacebackspace...

I went to the email, the one with all the information and went to the call the guy who sent it to me to find out if there was any way I could have this procedure done...ummm...more securely.

I find his name at the bottom and wouldn't you know it?  No phone number, but there's a LINK!

I click the link and immediately go to the "Contact Us" page to get a phone number.

Wouldn't you know?  Under Construction!

You sorryasssonsofbitches.

I was thisclose to be scammed.

Time to get back up on that horse...Also, can someone find me a clean glass for my vodka?

To-Do: Find A Job (Part I)

I wake up Monday morning and get McKenna ready for pre-school.  When I got back from taking her, I parked myself in front of my computer.  

This would be easy, right?  Send out a few resumes, wow people with my bubbly personality and go-get-'em attitude.

Piece of Cake.

I can honestly say that I easily sent out 75 resumes and cover letters out in the first week.  I ransacked craigslist for jobs like I was a starving tiger on the hunt for my prey.

I applied for every job you could possibly think of.  Except the ones I didn't want.  Can you blame me?  I'm not trying to sound like a spoiled brat, but I'm just not cut out (or trained) for a Lead Welder position.  I'm also pretty sure that I would get denied of the plumbing job, the city maintenance job, and probably even the Deputy Sheriff job.

I also failed to apply for the cashier job at the local Chevron and I knew I didn't want the Auto Detailer position at the local car wash (what?  Have you been to Texas in MayJuneJulyAugustSeptemberOctober?).

Yes, I was being a little picky.  I'm aware.

The thing is, my next job has to meet very specific criteria:

• No more than 60 miles round trip (I know I'll be making less money than I did in Austin, so I have to justify fuel)
• Monday - Friday, 8-5 preferred (I have to be able to leave to drop off and pick up McKenna without her being the first AND last kid there)
• Absolutely NO WEEKENDS (My Husband works constantly.  I have to make sure McKenna has supervision)
• Evenings are OUT OF THE QUESTION (See above).

My Qualifications and Experience:

• Office Maven
• Office Grunt
• Proficient at MS Office
• WPM:  Can you smell that?  That's my keyboard...ON FIAHHHH
• Phones:  I love talking to people
• Accounts Payable:  A little
• Accounts Receivable:  A little
• Purchasing:  Yes (well rounded on-the-job and personal experience - BONUS!)

The problem?  Everyone under the sun is looking for my job.  There are more people looking for something than there are positions open.

This is going to take a lot of patience, some umph and a farking miracle.

To-Do: Find Happy At Work (Part II)

After coming home from New Mexico, I knew that I needed to buckle down and get some serious work done.  The only problem is that I still didn't fully understand my job to the extent that I needed to, and my support system was virtually gone.  

My co-workers that were there to pump me up had all left the company, so I was left to fend for myself, like the proverbial fish out of water.

I tried to lean on Boss Man for as much help as I could, but really, nobody can teach you to be a great Loan Officer.  It comes with experience and I didn't have time to get the experience I needed.  The mortgage market was saturated with refinances, but purchases is where the money was.  I had utilized my resources here in town, but nobody was buyin' what I was sellin'.  

I worked as many leads as possible until I finally just gave up.  I quit.  I couldn't be put under that stress for any longer.  I tried to stay afloat as long as possible, but nothing was working out for me.  I locked as many loans as I could, and inevitably they would fall through.

The beginning of September rolled around and Boss Man sat me down.  It's either resign, get fired or shit out a miracle.  I pushed again, trying to get that "second wind" avid runners talk about.  I was doing everything I was supposed to, but becoming more and more frustrated at every turn.

I finally went to Boss Man and told him that my last day would be September 30th.  After that, I would look for a job.  Something closer to home, without a 130 mile round trip commute.

On Friday, September 30th, I drove to Austin and dropped my computer off at the office and said goodbye to the people that were there.  I was sad to leave the company because it really was a great place to work, but at the same time, I felt such a sense of relief.  No more waking up in a bad mood only to sit in front of a computer and stare blankly at the screen, waiting for a miracle to fall from the sky.

But wait.  Now I'm jobless.  FUNemployed.  No gotty no yob.  Shit.  SHit.  SHIT!

What the hell was I thinking?  

...to be continued...

To-Do: Visit Home (Part III)

After the hospice nurse left and we cleared out the room as much as we could, we sat there.  Quietly.  We waited.  We watched.  If watching someone breathe was an Olympic sport, I have no doubt that Dad and I would be the gold medal team.

Grandpa continued to be peaceful.  He was comfortable and we did everything we could to keep him pain free.  I think if he could tell us now, he would let us know that we did a badass job.

Sometime in the four o'clock hour, we allowed his sisters and brother-in-law back into the apartment.  It was time for us to pray the rosary.

We prayed the rosary.  All of us.

I sat at the right side of his bed, closest to his head.  My great aunt behind me and everyone else seemed to be a blur behind, in front of and around me.

The rosary ended and we sat in complete silence.  The only noise in the room was the sound of grandpa breathing.  His respirations were becoming fewer and father between.

I held his arm and watched his choroid artery pump with everything it had.  Eventually he took only one breath a minute.

It was getting closer.

The room was full.  There must have been thirty of us packed in there.

Silent.

Grandpa took one deep breath.

My great aunt whispered "I think he's gone".

I turned over my left shoulder and said "no.  not yet.  He still has a pulse".

At this point, everyone in the room, all thirtysomething of us were standing on our feet.  Breathing in unison.

He took his last breath at 5:05PM on July 16th 2011.

For a minute, it was like we were all mice in this room and suddenly someone turned on the lights and we scattered.  I went to the master bedroom and fell to my knees.  I was sad that I had lost my first grandparent, but I was so relieved that he wasn't suffering anymore.

Since we knew it was coming, the weeping and hysterics was kept to a minimum.  I think it was mostly because we knew he was okay.  He wasn't laying there being eaten alive by fucking cancer.

Everyone reconvenes at his bedside.  I plop myself on the bed, by his feet.  We all talk and laugh.  It sounds strange, but everything that happened was so normal and I can't explain it.

My grandma, who had not left his bedside all day long, finally got up to use the bathroom.  When she came back into the room, she said "I was looking at my Catholic calendar in the bathroom and today is The Day of The Feast of Our Lady of Mount Carmel".  This might mean nothing to you, but what I hadn't told you is that my grandpa was wearing a scapular that was given to him by a family friend when he first went into the hospital.  The scapular had Our Lady of Mount Carmel on it.

A few seconds later, my baby cousin said "wait.  He said he was going to die at the table.  Today is the feast of Our Lady of Mount Carmel".

He knew all along when he would leave us.  He tried to tell us, but we all thought it was just incoherent babble.

Well played, Grandpa.  Well played indeed!

My mom, sister and McKenna flew out to meet up with us for the funeral.

I didn't get home until the 27th of July.

I was gone for nearly an entire month.

To-Do: Visit Home (Part II)

When dad and I made the decision to drive to Albuquerque, they had just put my grandpa on hospice.  He lasted about 15 minutes in the hospice unit at the hospital before he cracked and told everyone that if he was going to die, he was going to do it where he was happiest and that wasn't a hospital.  My family took him home, as he requested.

We left Texas on the 7th of July, not knowing when we would return.  Everything was dependent upon the state of my grandpa and the rest of the family upon our arrival.

The drive there was great.  We made good time, listened to good music (Adele happened to be performing at the iTunes Music Festival in London and we listened LIVE) and had great conversation.  These things are nothing out of the ordinary when my dad and I get together.  I've always been a daddy's girl.

About 11½ hours into our trip, my dad talks to me about what to expect.  You see, dad had been driving back and fourth every week for the past three.  He knew what to expect. 

We arrived and I finally got to see my family.  I had been dreading it, on the one hand, because I knew I didn't want to remember my grandpa looking so sick, but I was thrilled on the other.  It had been almost exactly one year (I was home July 11, 2010) since I had seen them.

We walked into my grandparents two bedroom apartment and it was completely transformed.  There was no longer any furniture in the living room.  The entire room was transformed into his very own hospice unit.

I all but ran to the side of his bed.  My grandpa was lying there.  Practically skin and bones, but he was there!  I hugged him as hard as I could and told him I loved him.  His eyes swelled up when he saw me.  I'm not sure if he really knew I would be there.  He held my hand in one of his and my face in his other.  He told me how beautiful I was and how much he loved me.  It took every fiber of my being to not have a loud crying outburst, but I knew I needed to hold it back.  I sat with him and talked for a while.  He asked about My Husband and McKenna.  He wanted to know if they were coming too.  He asked about my mom and sister.  Then he fell asleep so I went and visited with everyone else.

Since it was late, dad and I left there and went to my uncle's house in the mountains.  We stayed up until after 1:00 in the morning talking about everything.  We drank whiskey and just talked.  Things that mattered and things that didn't.  

For the next six days, dad and I would show up at my grandparent's apartment in the morning and stay until dark.  My aunt and her husband took care of my grandpa in the evenings and dad and I were on duty during the day.  Grandpa was never, EVER alone.  There was someone sitting in a chair at his feet 24 hours a day. When I wasn't sitting in the chair with him while he slept, I was on what I like to call Grandma Duty.  Someone was with her 24 hours a day also.  I can think of one time she left by herself and it was to get her hair done.  She refused my company.

I would clean up after people ate, I would make sandwiches for lunch, warm up leftovers for dinner, wash, rinse, repeat.

On the seventh day, Thursday, July 14th, I noticed things had taken a sharp turn.  Grandpa was sleeping more and more.  I would say he was eating less too, but he quit eating long before we got there on the 7th.  His intake was practically nothing.  

When I first got there, he was sleeping and when he woke up and started to stir, I got up from the chair and walked to his bedside.  I grabbed his hand and looked into his eyes to tell him good morning.  It was what happened next that crushed me forever.  If I didn't believe anything that was happening was real, his reaction to seeing me made it all real.

He ripped his hand from mine and looked at me as if he was terrified of me.  It was almost as if he thought I was trying to rob him.  In seven days my grandpa went from telling me how beautiful I was and how much he loved me to not being able to recognize his very first grandchild.

As soon as I could, I broke away and started to cry.  It was real.  I mean, I knew it was real, but it was really real.

Later that afternoon, the family gathered to pray the rosary.  When we finished, we stood around the bed and told him it was okay.  "It's okay for you to go, grandpa.  We are all here and we're all okay.  We'll make it because you've carved out the path."

Tears were shed, but we needed him to know that it was okay for him to pass on.  A few minutes later he spoke.  He hadn't really said anything in a few days.  He looked at my uncle and said "muerte la mesa".  We couldn't figure out why he was telling us he was going to die at the table.  We chalked it up to something we read in the book that the hospice folks left for us.  It was like he was in two different worlds.  When he spoke, he didn't know if he was here or there.

Friday, July 15th rolled around.  It was the same song and dance.  By this time he was sleeping 23 hours a day and awake for maybe a total of an hour in spurts of 3-4 minutes at a time.  That afternoon, we gathered again.  We prayed the rosary.  He was sleeping but my grandma was sure he held his rosary as we prayed.  Again, we stood at his bedside and told him it was okay.  It was just as emotional this time as it was the previous day.

He woke up after we finished again.  This time, he was trying to get himself out of his bed.  Something he hadn't done in what seemed like a lifetime.  My dad and his brother rushed to him to help him.  Grandpa was on the move and nothing was going to stop him.  Not pain, not starvation, not fucking cancer.

My dad and his brother held him up at the side of his bed.  He said nothing, but he smiled.  Someone in the room (it was constantly filled at this point) told him to look around.  "Look, Tom!  We're all here!  Look what you've created!  You are so loved!".  Grandpa was holding on to my uncle with the biggest smile I've ever seen in my life and managed to give us all a thumbs up!  He was happy.

As my dad and uncle settled him back down in his bed, he muttered again "muerte la mesa".  Still confused, we thought again, he was just in a state of delusion.  That afternoon turned into dusk and then a full moon night.  Dad and I stayed until around 10 that night before we headed out to get some sleep.  We were both staying at my maternal grandparent's house to sleep.

We had planned on arriving on Saturday morning around our normal time "we'll wake up, grab some breakfast and be here by 10", I remember telling my aunt as we left on Friday night.

At 5:45 on Saturday morning, my dad threw the door open to my room at my grandparent's house.  "We have to go", he told me.  I changed clothes and took my toothbrush with me.  The 10 minute drive from one house to the apartment felt like it was an hour long.  We were mostly silent.  For starters, it was early and next, we didn't want to talk about it.  We knew the time was getting closer, but again, you never want to talk about it.

We arrive and it's dark and silent in the apartment.  Everyone (grandma, my aunt and uncle and another aunt and uncle) is awake, but silent.  Things were not looking good.  Obviously.  We did everything we could to keep grandpa comfortable.  Around one in the afternoon, the hospice nurse showed up (she wasn't our regular nurse since it was a Saturday).  We pulled her into the master bedroom and asked her to be real.  In a nutshell, she said that everyone that wasn't a blood relative needed to get the hell out and give the rest of us, his legacy, time with him because the end was near.

We knew it.

...to be continued...