It’s 10:45 am, on a Tuesday. Here I sit in a Starbucks and for the first time in so many years, I have no work commitments. It’s been 5 days since I abruptly lost my job. A job tbat I uprooted my family for, a job that I sacrificed so much for. Yet, here I sit, having all I plaaned, blow up in front of me.
In these last few days, I’ve experienced so much love and encouragement from people who love me and care. I’ve had a set of arms to fall apart in, someone to tell me to suck it up, I have a lot of words. That love and support does provide some strength but I can’t stop my feeling of fear and panic.
To be honest, I am relieved to no longer work for Ethan Allen. The moral compass and practices were not aligned with my own. The travel took me away from my kids too much and the miles put on my car has basically destroyed it. It’s weird to admit that I am sitting here, unemployed yet somewhat relieved. I knew that I needed a change, I guess the universe just gave me that SHOVE to make a change.
Then, there is that panic, the panic that reminds me that I have 3 weeks to find an income before I am unable to pay my bills. Not only my bills but school supplies and clothes prior to August 8. The sadness that every adventure I promised thus summer, can’t happen. The magnitude of this situation is overwhelming.
Just now, I look to my left and see a poster for ‘A tree grows in Brooklyn’. My favorite book, a story about a girl who loses her father, a girl who grows up with very little… a girl who at the very end, goes on to do great things. That’s when I get pulled back to feeling somewhat between panic and relief.
Taking it one day at a time.
One mom under siege.