Love, Jimmie

It’s time for an update.  So many people have checked on me, sent me job openings, called with kind words, prayed for me, laid hands on me. I have gotten an edible arrangement, cards, kitty litter, tickets to a band competition, lunches, and more hugs than I ever dreamed possible.   I am overwhelmed by the love and support that I have received and I thank you, every one, for what you have done for me. 

I’m done with the crying now.  No more of that.  My eyes are puffy enough on their own.   Now I’m hopeful and looking forward to good things.   I’m still transitioning but now it’s transitioning with hope and not tears. 

I try hard not to worry.  Most of the time I succeed.  I do find that I am inordinately concerned with running out of toilet paper, so much so that I use public restrooms excessively before leaving any place of business.  I have no idea why I focus on that.  However, I don’t really worry about running low on food.  See, I cleaned out my freezer once the layoff happened and found all kinds of surprises in there. I eat it, sometimes without knowing exactly what it is.  I find it best to not question it, and since I haven’t died from food poisoning yet, I consider that a blessing.

I’ve been doing some work with the senior center where I volunteer.  Obviously I like the people and I have to say I like the work.  I don’t just do the Supper Club anymore.   Now I’m a kitchen manager for the theater there and an office assistant for the center.    I’m on my feet a lot and for someone who spent 40 hours a week sitting and talking on the phone while searching for the best travel arrangements, it’s quite painful. My toes are suffering.  I need regular pedicures now so it’s especially important that I find a job soon.  As kitchen manager for the theater, I cook for the audience.  I cook a lot, sometimes for upwards of 150 people.  Fortunately for me, it’s the same meal for every show so it isn’t difficult.  Unfortunately for me, it’s the same meal for every show.  I feed myself and others after every night in the kitchen but after eight days of the BBQ menu, we all are sick of it.  If anyone asks me to go out for some BBQ in the near future, you are guaranteed a fork-stick in the neck.  I’m not kidding.

Some other items of note:  I was on my Greenway the first week I was unemployed, and I was slightly panicky about getting to the center to conduct my job search.  I was rushing to the end of the path and suddenly I got a message: Slow down.  I was a little stunned at first, because I’m not entirely sure I know what that means.  Slow down?  I’ve always got somewhere to be, somewhere to rush to, and it threw me for a loop when I realized that I no longer have anywhere to go. It almost made me cry (and really, in the beginning that was no difficult task), but then I took the message to heart.  I’ve read some books I’ve been putting off.  I took some naps that I never had time for.  I stop and smell the flowers (or the honeysuckle, as it were).

I’ve also met some new people because I go to the gym later in the day.  Let me tell you about Cathy, bless her heart.  I’ve met Cathy twice, and I really mean I’ve met her twice.  I don’t think Cathy has a lot of short term memory because every time I see her, I get the same conversation.  It’s like I’m brand new. 

Cathy:  “Hi, I’m Cathy.  Want to see my baby doll?” She’s at least 60, by the way.

Jimmie:  “Sure.”

Cathy:  “We worked out today.  I love my baby doll.” Here she opens her purse and I see a little black boy baby doll wearing a baby doll three-piece suit crammed down in the bottom of it. 

Jimmie:  “Well, he’s awfully cute.” 

Cathy:  “Look at my shirt.  Isn’t  it pretty?  I bought it at the Goodwill.  It was seven dollars.  It fits me good.  I lost seven pounds.  My doctor says I don’t need to have this belly, I’m too small for this belly, but I worked out today.  With my baby doll.”  And she brandishes her purse with the doll again.

Jimmie:  “Okay, Cathy, nice to meet you.” 

Cathy:  “Nice to meet you.  I love you, Jimmie.”

Seriously, she tells me she loves me every time.

Ah, so yeah.  I’m going to be alright.  I’m not yet sure what will happen for me or how the timing will work, but I’m confident that something really fantastic is going to come along and I will be thrilled.  You know how I know?  Because I’ve been so worried about my toilet paper consumption, ridiculously so, and Phranke brought me some, totally of her own volition without me mentioning a peep about it.  Little things like that keep happening to me.  That tells me that God is going to take care of me and that really is the best feeling of all.

Still, though, if you hear of any great jobs that I might be perfect for (and I totally will be), send them over.  I’m a “Master Application Completer” now.  I should put that on my resume.