It has been one month and one day since my employment contract ended, and I am beginning to understand how people who are unemployed become depressed. I used to think it was about the loss of income and financial strain, but lately I have been rethinking that.
Let me be very clear – this situation is of my own choice. I was not let go, downsized, asked to reconsider my employment or any other politically correct way of saying that I was fired. I was emotionally and physically exhausted, and it was just time for a change. I didn’t know how long it was going to take for me to recover so I made the choice to end my contract.
Turns out, it took about a month.
The joy I found in sleeping in, wearing my pajamas until noon, and “catching up” on those ignored household tasks wore off in the first two weeks. When I did finally decide to put on a pair of jeans, they were a bit snug due to the open door policy on the pantry.
I did move on from “catching up” to “mindfulness” about week three. I decided that I was going to do the hard work. I would find myself. I would find Zen in the laundry room. I would do yoga and journal every day. I would become the person I was always meant to be.
That also lasted about two weeks.
I am definitely learning something about myself. I actually NEED to work. No matter how hard I try, I do not have the domestic gene. I really wanted to find bliss in caring for my family. I wanted to have my kids come home to freshly baked cookies on a pretty plate in the clean kitchen. Is it Wednesday? Laundry day- clean pressed sheets for everyone! Thursday? How about I greet you at the door with freshly done hair and a perfect dry martini? Friday is lunch with the girls, and a stop at the market for fresh bread and a pot roast for dinner……
I love vintage sofas and kitchen appliances, but vintage décor just doesn’t make the housewife. I can’t cook – I quit trying years ago – and I don’t think we have had dinner at 5 since the kids started school. I have taught my children the fine art of shaking a shirt really hard to get most of the wrinkles out when pulled from the bottom of a laundry basket. And, my hair, well I am surprised that I do not have a bald spot on the back of my head where it rubs on the headrest in the car since that is where I seem to spend most of my time.
I wouldn’t call myself a complete domestic failure, but I am pretty close. Working has always given me an out – a place where I could feel successful. I may not “get” the crock pot, but I know how to run a mean meeting. I am at a loss when my 9 year old slams her door and screams that she hates me, but I can diffuse and soothe the most irate professional with ease.
I am currently working to find new successes to replace the old, and constantly adjusting my expectations. For me, it is an accomplishment to get the house clean, the errands run, and the dog walked and still get the kids picked up on time. If I can work in a couple of business contacts, even better.
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