I start a new job on Tuesday, which is to say it’s a
freelance gig, but I am so excited nonetheless. Some of you may know that I’ve
been out of work for north of six months. A lot can happen in six months. An
unbelieveable lot. When you are working full-time, sometimes the idea of being
unemployed even for a short time takes on a rosy, sort of romantic glow. It
seems delicious, doesn’t it? But no, it isn’t what you imagine. I did not once,
contrary to one thoughtless question, spend my days eating bon bons and
watching soap operas. I worked full-time, and then some, at networking and
finding a new place to hang my hat. I went to the gym almost daily where I
learned that Regina Spektor’s complex song ‘All The Rowboats’ deftly synchronized
the movements of everyone in the gym, from people on ellipticals and bikes as
well as weight-lifters. When you are a designer, you impose patterns where they
are not always evident. I went to my ballet and modern dance classes, where I
made progress, and made friends. I became a human rolodex, having coffee,
lunch, dinner and wine with acquaintances and strangers alike, listening and
sharing bits of myself, and gaining a little from each person I met. I went to
networking events at 7:00am and at 9:00pm. I wore nametags, and shook hands
with authors as well as young women in high school. I memorized my elevator
speech better than Prospero’s final speech in
The Tempest, which I had to learn
in high school English class. I weeded my closet. I weeded my closet again. I
helped a friend conceptualize a bridal show. I renewed and nurtured a
friendship with an old colleague who was also recently displaced. I hung a
painting in a gallery, with their permission no less. I interviewed for jobs I
did not want just for the experience of interviewing. I built an online
portfolio.
And then
another. I participated in a hundred webinars, on networking, resumes,
professional marketing plans, and interviewing. I learned who my friends are. I
do not mean that as a sideways slur against anyone who might not be a friend. I
got more encouragement and support than I deserve, and people came out of the
woodwork to introduce me to someone who might be helpful to know. Friends went
on walks with me, and took me out for pizza and beer and let me ramble. I sent
more ‘thank you’ chocolate through the US Postal Service than any non-commercial
enterprise in US history. I ran in the Komen Race for the Cure for the first time (Thank you
Stephanie and
Team Perez!), after working at the event for several years. (Okay,
“ran” is a misleading, but I gave it an honest go.) There were small miracles
around every corner, opportunities for me to grow and to learn humility. I
learned that, while I love what I do, my job alone does not define me. I have green
eyes, a quirky sense of humor, and can make a meaner granola than the gal who
works at the health food store. I like lavender, chocolate and singing in the
car. Orange is currently my favorite color. And I can do hard things. These are
the things that define me.
