Saturday, January 7, 2012

A Year of Gratitude - Day Two Hundred Eight

Day 208 - Love
If not for love, I would not have survived the day.
I still hadn’t heard from the hotel in Bellevue, so I called my friend.  “Oh, I was going to call you today.”  ...I knew how the rest of the conversation would go before he uttered another word.  To make a long story short, the hotel management decided I was asking for too much money; they went with the other candidate because she doesn’t need a living wage.  It doesn’t matter that I was the better fit for their business needs; budget trumps skills and priorities, so there you have it.  He offered to be a reference, though I don’t know how much that could help under the circumstances.
I was devastated.  I have no other job leads; no other connections.  I have no hope left.  Instead, I have more of the same - another 2011 at this rate - which is something I simply cannot face.
I took my things to Mom’s, leaving Denny with clean sheets, towels, and dishes, and a note to express my gratitude for allowing me to pretend I was on my own again.  It was a nice break, and the cats were good.
I went to the glass studio to pick up the pieces I made yesterday and put into the kiln to anneal.  Since I didn’t start to cry when I told Judy the news, I decided I could manage to sit at the torch for awhile.  I was glad that she didn’t belabor it.  I made a few more twisties (shorter this time - I think shorter pieces will look better from the lowest points of the chandelier), and the activity kept my mind off of my present despair.
I cried all the way back to Mom’s.  I wondered if other drivers were watching me, but I couldn’t stop the flood.  I just let it go.  No one really cares anyway, so it wouldn’t matter.
Mom is a gem.  I had informed her via text message of the bad news, and when I arrived, she left me alone.  I simply couldn’t bear to talk about it, and she didn’t press.  I spent the rest of the day in my room - her office - and quietly grieved the loss of my future.
Ignacio sent me supportive text messages, too.  He asked me if I wanted to chat on Skype, and I told him yes, when I didn’t feel so much like crying.  The poor man - he wanted to help, but it’s difficult when you’re 200 miles away. 
Dinner was fabulous.  Mom made turkey thighs and vegetables in the slow cooker, and roasted some broccoli.  I had thought it might be nice to simply starve myself to death, but when faced with food this good, I ate more than I expected.  One cannot go on a hunger strike with food like this.
Ignacio and I chatted on Skype later in the evening, and he offered what support he could.  He is in the unenviable position of having been through much of what I am now experiencing, so he understands on a different level.  He understands how platitudes do not help.  He understands the despair.  Though there are differences in the living situations, he gets it, and I was grateful for his kindness.
It is tough to realize you’re an anachronism.  I’m a real life, modern day Willie Loman.  Dreams are wonderful until you wake up.  
I didn’t think I could find anything to be grateful for today.  But there is one thing.
If it weren’t for the love I receive from Mom and Ignacio, I would not have survived the day.

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