The day after sharing last week's post about what my days looked like, I got laid off of my remote-work job. It was unexpected. It was sad. It was extremely frustrating. Like many people, so much of my income had already been stripped away, that loosing this felt like loosing my last sliver of independence.
At the beginning of this self-isolation, I was grateful for the slow down. I went from having panic attacks in February after seeing that almost every weekend in April, May, and June, was already full, to seeing cancellation emails rolling in every afternoon. I felt an overwhelming sense of relief as space opened up again and the world seemed to pause. That, and what I thought would be 2 weeks at home to chill and make good food, seemed like a great idea to me. This was the re-set button I had been longing for.
You see, life has felt like train I'm chasing after since September. Last fall I was working 3 jobs, 7 days a week; then I was in Orlando for a show all of November and December; then I was home, moving in with Chris, and working 4 jobs about 6-7 days a week and commuting several hours each day. I had just packed up and headed off to Miami for another skating show when COVID-19 started getting serious (in the US, anyways). I was there for a week when they canceled, and we all scrambled back home.
I've always gotten a lot of my validation and self-worth from work. I've always worked multiple jobs, and over the last year, I've been lucky enough to do a lot of work that I really, really love, which makes it that much easier to keep piling things on. I've grown in ways I'm incredibly grateful for this year. I've taken leaps in work, and leaps in my life. I've started just asking for the opportunities I want, instead of waiting. There has been so much good stuff. But there has also been A LOT OF STUFF! A lot of change. A lot of fast moving pieces that make me feel like I can't find my footing.
I wanted a re-set. I prayed for a re-set. We are currently 3 weeks in, and have at least a month left, of this quarantine. This still feels like a re-set, but a much less comfortable re-set than I initially had in mind.
Turns out, getting used to not having a schedule is just as hard as getting used to having a hectic schedule. While loosing work has been scary on the financial side, in my day-to-day it feels more unsettling on the emotional side. I don't know how to write lists. I don't know how to structure my day. I don't know what to focus on, or what is "good" relaxing and what is "bad" relaxing (and I realize thinking of relaxing that way is probably part of the problem). I want to be thought of as a smart, hard-working, goal-driven, person that does interesting things and contributes something meaningful to the world around her. But how do you do that if you can't work? And how do you show you're contributing if you're not getting paid, or getting asked to be anywhere?
In a moment of panic-driven positivity, I told Chris: this isn't unemployment! This is employment freedom! And in many ways, maybe that is true. Perhaps the key to getting through this in one piece, mentally, is to stop making it a problem of "finding work". Maybe instead of stressing about money, coming up with new work ideas, and attempting to set myself up for when I can start my regular work again, I should focus on everything but work. I know who I want to be as a person. I want to be purposeful, creative, kind, patient, positive, focused, and fun. If I can't meet those things through working, how can I work to meet them in the rest of my life? What parts of my life have I been ignoring, while I attempt to become everything I want to be solely through work?
Fast forward to this past Saturday. After months of talking about getting a dog, and then talking about puppies, we finally brought one home. His name is Bear, and he's a 9-week old German Shepherd. I am not a dog person, and while I've been excited, I've also been nervous and a little resistant.
We happened to bring him home right before Chris started a string of long Fire Department shifts. Because of that, Bear and I spent Saturday night (his first night) alone, then Sunday night alone, then all day Monday and Monday night. This fact definitely scared me. I have never owned a dog, and honestly don't know the first thing about puppies. I had visions of him howling all night and bothering the landlords. I pictured everything being chewed, him constantly using the bathroom in the house, and generally things being terrible.
While I'm writing this its's mid-day on Monday. The first night was rough but we worked through it-and I definitely slept 4 extra hours after Chris got home and took care of Bear. The second night was SO MUCH BETTER, and the idea that I had a part in making it that way? Fantastic. He's a lot, for sure, but he is also so happy and sweet and funny, and loves us so much after just a few days!
I need to spend some time figuring out unemployment and next steps, and be prepared to jump back in when this lifts. But perhaps there is a lot of value in focusing on the present day right now. Today, what friend can I call? How can I make the house cozier? How can I exercise my body and mind? What can I make? How can I help? What can I do to make sure Bear becomes a great dog? How can I validate myself as the person I want to be, without looking at external things like work to do it?
These times are strange, my friends. I'm extremely grateful that income, puppies, and cabin fever are my problems right now, because I know most of the world has it a lot worse. While definitely not one of my strengths, my aim right now is to focus on creating the future I want, through prioritizing the little things each day. I'm just a little disappointed it took a global pandemic for me to figure that one out.
PS-more puppy stuff coming! More about me worrying about the future and choosing to live the bigger life.
