Gimme a Break!

Oh, hello there. Been a while since I last blogged/whined. That’s because I took some time off.

I can imagine what you are thinking: Time off! How dare she! She’s unemployed. She must spend every waking hour looking for work or working on freelance assignments!

Now before you bellow at me any more, let me explain. Last Sunday, I actually did work six hours on a freelance project. The weekend before that, however, I took my annual fall trip to

Pennsylvania to visit my sister.

It’s a trip I’ve made many times since I was in junior high. That’s when my older sister went to a college in Pennsylvania, a school she had to furiously fight to attend over the strenuous objections of my parents. (Most parents want their children to go to college; not ours.)

Eventually, she won. It was there she met her future husband, settled down to raise her family, and built a life.

I clearly remember those first two-hour car trips in the early fall. Since my Dad was the “get up at the crack of dawn and into the car” kind of guy, the morning mist was still in the air as we drove west. That mist, to me, appeared tinged with gold as we drove past trees laden with orange and red leaves.

I think of those trips now with bittersweet memories. It was one of the few times we did something together as a family. Sadly, it was around that time my Dad became sick—sick with that disease, the disease we fear more than death itself. Despite surgery and treatments now considered commonplace but were in their primitive stages back then, the disease did its work swiftly, rupturing our family into bitter, remote pieces, figuratively and in some cases, geographically, never to coalesce as we once did on those trips to Pennsylvania (or the Jersey Shore in our much younger days). It was as if our collective grief curdled into a rust that was never scrapped off. Each of us, in our own way, splintered into separate worlds, thinking our pain gave us the right to do whatever we wanted without regard to the family as a whole—or the feelings of one another even though we were related by blood. But that was of another time. No use dredging up old wounds now.

Back to the present: The trip I took two weeks ago was something I felt I had to do, needed to do. I was tired, stressed and needed to get away. So I plunked down $30 bucks (about all I can spare for trips these days), filled up my 10-year-old Toyota and took off to PA. Even though a warmer than usual fall meant the trees were mostly green with occasional bursts of gold and deep red, there was still enough chill in the air to remind me of autumn despite our elongated Indian summer.

My sister and I bought apples at a nearby orchard, did some window shopping, and ate way too much delicious home-cooked food. It was a relaxing trip. Well, you must be thinking, doesn’t she have enough time to relax when she’s not working?

Not really. And I thank you not to judge. For the record, I agree that Job One for a jobless person is to find a job. As a human being, we need a break. We can take weekend road trips, have an occasional lunch with a friend.

Looking for a job, getting rejected for those jobs, hustling up and working on freelance assignments—it’s all very stressful. Unemployed job-seekers need a break just as much as any working person. How does it help any unemployed person to be so stressed out they fail at job interviews? Or develop high blood pressure?

No, even we need a break. Though I must admit, I can never fully leave behind the uncertainty of my situation. I’ve read a lot about “living in the now.” In essence, that philosophy maintains that we cannot think about the past, which only makes us depressed (okay, maybe that part about Dad and the family was better left unwritten). Nor should we think about the future, as that will only cause us anxiety. All we have is now, so enjoy as best we can. Of course, that assumes a person’s “now” doesn’t consist of joblessness or a serious illness.

Yet, I was able to relax and enjoy my brief escape into Pennsylvania. I didn’t dwell on my current situation, although it was always in the back of my mind, like a faint buzzing in the ear.

So, on Monday, I returned to my life, which meant looking for a job, working on scant-paying freelance assignments, and worrying, constantly worrying, about my finances.

What am I doing today? Well, I have to iron some clothes. I could work on some assignments, but I’m thinking of leaving those until tomorrow. I may even relax on my deck with a glass of wine later on this afternoon.

Because, just for a little while, I need a break.