Friday, June 19, 2009

Irony


Yesterday, I blogged about being a single working parent, how hectic my days are, how little time I get to spend with my daughter, sitting in traffic to and from work, my eight different daytime “zones” that make scheduling enough time for the things that are most important─time with my daughter, sleep, exercise, diet, personal projects—difficult. Oh how the universe works.

After lunch yesterday, I was called in to speak to our HR director at work, and when the COO is sitting next to you in a meeting called by the HR director, you know it isn’t good. And it wasn’t. I am no longer a single working parent; I’m now simply a single parent.

Yesterday, I got laid off. Assured that it was not because of anything I had done or not done, and that I had done my job very well and had been a great asset to the company for the past year and a half, my position was eliminated, and I joined the thousands upon thousands of unemployed workers in America.

I follow the news. I feel terrible for all those who have lost their jobs during this trying time in our country. I’ve watched as fellow journalists—writers, editors, designers, publishers, marketing and advertising specialists—all across the United States have gotten the ax right and left. I’ve watched as newspapers and magazines have gone under one after another after another. I’ve watched what was once a thriving industry in my hometown become the one business of which you don’t want to be part. It’s heart-breaking to me to know that the profession I chose so many years ago has come to this. Last week, I noticed that our newspaper had stopped arriving in our driveway. I have yet had the time to figure out why. I guess today, I should give them a call.

My daughter and I are lucky: We have a wonderful support system. I have a mother and father who help me everyday raise my daughter—from keeping her a couple of days a week and putting a roof over our heads, to stopping by the store for milk or showing up at home with a new toy or outfit. I have great friends who keep Kensie for me when I need a hand or are willing to meet me for drinks or a movie or just to simply talk when I need some adult time. Makensie and I are so blessed that we have the support we do, especially in this trying time in our country. I may not have a job right now, but what I do have is a wonderful family, great friends, and a beautiful, healthy, happy daughter. The job will come. Right now, I think I’ll hang out and enjoy some much-needed downtime with my family and friends. That’s my positive.