For the past two years I have worked 3 days per week for a friend who owns her own company. I work the other two days for the school system. Unfortunately, last week her company lost their largest contract. I began sending my resume out immediately in fear of losing my position. Yesterday she told me that she can only afford to pay me one day per week beginning immediately. At first I was angry. Then I was frustrated. Then I was sad. Then I told my husband.
See, my husband is an amazing man. He truly wants me to do whatever makes me happy. He wants to do whatever it takes to MAKE me happy. So, he told me “only good can come from bad”. And I believed him. He followed it up with, “We’re good babe, no worries.” My biggest fear was that a decrease in my income would impact our lifestyle. We’re lucky, we both earn great salaries, live below our means, have savings, and spend money wisely, but definitely have tons of places we can cut expenses. Financially, we WILL be good. No worries. But for me, the thought of having “nothing to do” a few days a week is BAD. I am obsessively planned down to the minute, even on days I have nothing I NEED to do. I find things to do. I can things. I organize, I reorganize. I clean. I volunteer. I do ANYTHING to stay busy. I can’t watch TV for very long. I don’t nap. I am a go, go, go girl.
But-there is good in this. We plan to begin trying to have a baby in July. Neither of my jobs provides me with any type of paid leave, or maternity leave. I do have health insurance through my husband. But no benefits of my own. Now I can apply for full time jobs with organizations that provide things like paid time off, maternity leave, flex spending accounts, 401ks, etc.
I will have some down time to gather my thoughts, apply for jobs, work out a little extra, and do things I’ve had on my to do list for months. Visit with old friends. See my sisters new apartment. Maybe get a facial, who knows.
I had a job interview today, and it went well. But they are doing A LOT of interviews.
Also, last night. I was sad. I was scared. I was worried. I didn’t eat, though. I had one 153 calorie beer, and 2 thin mints-and cut myself off. I still stayed under my calories. Which I am proud of.
So, I guess my point is this. 1) I love my husband. 2) I am proud of not ‘healing’ myself with food. 3) Everything will be okay. Because only good can come from bad.