Downtime

Let's rewind a minute. We derailed the train and took off down Memory Lane (which runs through some pretty bleak terrain, I must say) way back around the time of my first, and hopefully my only, visit to the Office of the Unwashed Masses.  We have to board the train and put it back on the tracks.  There is lots of ground to cover.

So, at the time of my sojourn into Hell Itself for my eye-opening and eye-stinging visit to the Office of the Unwashed Masses, I had lots of job prospects and a lot of enthusiasm. And I had not yet begun to have beads of sweat form on my brow over money worries. I was going to play it safe, be responsible, make my money last for me.  I would not be running out to buy new sandals and bathing suits en masse, but my lifestyle and the lifestyle the kids enjoy would not really feel the squeeze in any palpable way.  OK, maybe we won't eat out at all, but why would we?  I'm home all day!  I have all the time in the world to prepare lovely, mouthwatering, world class meals!

But I do discontinue having my groceries delivered. It's not that the delivery fee and tip are back breaking. It is just that it is hard to justify the luxury when I have all damn day to shop and put away groceries. And besides, the new grocery store in the area has a Beer Garden (What??????) and gives you discounted gas prices based on your spending.  So if I can brace myself for the Hell that is grocery shopping with a pre-game beer, avoid a trip to the beer distributor AND get 20 cents off my gas price, why would I spend money to sit on my ass and have the groceries delivered?  That will be the carrot dangling at the end of my job search. 

So I search. Everyday. All the job boards, all the employers I have heard are looking for people who do what I do. (Or do what I did.) All the headhunters I know have been sent my resume.

And I network. They say that it is not what you know but who you know (which I really hope is not the case for a lot of industries, like Brain Surgery) so I connect with former colleagues. It is not enough to know a lot of people who can assist your search. They have to know you are searching. So I dial for dollars. Make small talk, ask for help.

And even with all of this searching and applying and submitting and following up and interviewing and contacting old contacts in good places, I am left with far too many hours in the day for any sane person to possibly contend with. 

So I decide something. I decide that I have absolutely no excuse for not having the cleanest house on the block, the most finely manicured yard, and the fittest physique on any 40-something in the Tri-State area.

Now, how to make that happen...