I've kicked around the idea of getting back on here and catching up on what's been going on in my life. But when I log in and look at the date of my last post -- more than TWO YEARS AGO -- well, my motivation goes south.
The recent death of Mr. G. in June 2010 inspired me to write an entry that I quickly took down. While my ruminations on why he chose to end his life were honest and, I feel, accurate, I felt it was bad form to be critical of one of the only people who checked this blog on a semi-regular basis and could not defend himself. A couple of you found it anyway, and for that, I apologize.
My last entry found me on my second day of employment as a public information officer for a large local government. I was excited. I was elated. I thought I had found the perfect job, but it quickly turned into something of a nightmare.
Shortly after I started working there, I was under siege by investigative reporters responding to tips of wrongdoing from employees of the agency to which I was assigned. These employees were quite unhappy with the new director, hired to "clean up" the agency and who quickly dissolved divisions, created new ones, promoted people with questionable credentials and hired people who were in her "circle of trust." Soon came a tidal wave of wrongdoings and scandals I had to deal with, in addition to developing a robust internal communication program, increase public awareness about programs and services, etc. The job was intense. And I walked into it with no media relations experience. I made plenty of mistakes. But I also did a lot of good there. I worked 50-hour weeks. I cranked out an enormous amount of work, doing a job that, historically, was done by two people.
The economy tanked, sales tax revenues plummeted, and because local politicians don't know how to balance a budget, I got "riffed." In government speak, it's "Reduction in Force." So here I am, unemployed again. I was told that there's a team of 10 people carrying out what equaled maybe half of what I did there. And they can't keep up with it.
It's been a little over four months since I left. I've had seven in-person interviews and five phone interviews. Nothing has bore fruit thus far, so it's hard to say how long I'll be out.
Meanwhile, as I was working my a** off only to eventually get canned, my boyfriend and I decided to do something completely crazy: purchase a house. The crazy part wasn't buying the house, really. After all, prices were low and we would qualify for the tax credit because we weren't married (my bf was a first-time home buyer). What was crazy is that I saw this layoff coming at least a year before it did. And I still owned a condo. So, in essence, I was choosing to make a 30-year financial commitment while a) I was uncertain about the future of my job and b) I already had a mortgage to pay.
Fate intervened, and after spending a couple thousand bucks to get my place ready to sell, we put it on the market. Our realtor was a miracle worker. Exactly one week after I was told that our department's budget was being cut in half and 13 of us were going to be laid off, we got an offer. So I had "real estate euphoria" to distract me from the inevitable fact that I was probably one of the 13 being let go. And sure enough, come May 18, the axe fell and I got my RIF letter. My last day was to be June 29, 2010.
Little did I know at the time that if I worked through that date, I would lose an opportunity to qualify for the COBRA subsidy, which pays 65 percent of the premium. So, fortunately, I was given the option to leave before May 31, making me eligible to pay 35 percent of my COBRA premium. Whew!
So here I am. Life could be worse. Life could be better. We have a great house in a fantastic neighborhood. Granted, prices continue to drop, but there's no doubt we made the right choice with location. Provided we stay put, we'll definitely see a return on our investment in a few years.
I'm getting a lot more interest in my resume than I did last time I was unemployed, so I suppose my two years wasn't wasted. The house keeps me busy.
But I feel a bit rudderless. The wind has gone out of my sails with regard to searching for jobs, applying for jobs, networking, etc. I hate constantly selling, selling, selling myself -- particularly since my last two jobs has rendered my self-esteem a smoky pile of ashes.
For my reader(s), I can't promise a blogging revival, but I'll make more of an effort to check in more often.
OB
