I've got a cup of coffee, my oldest son is awake and pouting because it isn't time for him to sneak in and cuddle with his mother. The day promises to be brilliant with sunshine and a high of 67. The world keeps spinning and the days continue to roll in and every morning I wake up and keep trying. Keep trying to find a job, discover a career path, parent my children, and be a good husband. When I was laid off from my job as a carpenter in February, I never expected the journey and process of finding a job and discovering a fulfilling career path (not necessarily the same thing but not mutually exclusive either) would be so challenging and long.
I had never expected to be unemployed four months later. It isn't like me to not work but after a while a routine develops and presently there is a sense of contentment...no, reassignment, that sets in and even though I'm applying for jobs and filling out applications and polishing my resume and firing off application packets to various potential employers, and doing as well as I can, the belief that I'll actually find a job diminishes with each day that ends with out a phone call or another rejection.
Today I have a bit of work, not great, not challenging or exciting, not high exposure carpentry that I enjoy, but a bit of work all the same. But I am torn. I can recognize in myself the deterioration of my work ethic to some degree and how, as a way of coping, my mindset on work has become so idealistic that the ideas and yearnings some homeowners have are distasteful and horrifying to me, never mind the practical/financial applications.
So, I'm rambling on and on and I think I'll be done for today.
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