That’s the questions running through my head this week. I’ve settled my few belongings in our cozy home. But I don’t know what to do now. I need to find work, that’s for sure. I tell myself that I want to get into the food service industry. I want to wait tables. Why? Who knows? So I put in applications around town, I put on my nicest clothes and submit resumes along with smiles. At the end of week one though, I’ve not heard back from anybody. I’m not sure why this surprises me, why some part of me just expected opportunities to come crashing over me. I should have known that it wouldn’t be that easy.
Unfortunately, the wheels in my head begin to churn out the what-ifs. What if I don’t get a job? What if I end up having to do some miserable retail job to make ends meet? What if this whole thing comes crashing down because I’m flat broke in a few weeks? I become mildly panic-stricken at all the possible things that could go wrong. So I take a step back, I focus on the good things that come with unemployment. I exercise like a maniac, hitting the gym just as hard as I hit the rock. I cook frugal meals every day, and take my expenditures down as much as I can to maintain my meager bank account for as long as possible. I read books, and hike with the dog. I run and walk around this town which is so familiar to me. I soak in the fact that I am here again, after over a year of being a nomad.
And I wait.