the perils of pandemia
It’s been some time since I’ve written. During a period when there’s been nothing but time. But I wasn’t in the mood. Or rather, I had so many thoughts and feelings jumbled inside, I had no idea where to begin. I’m not sure now, but I feel I need to unburden at least a bit.
To start, back when I was still working on campus, and virus stories were starting to make an appearance, and we started hearing about washing hands and covering mouths when sneezing, I was like, “SERIOUSLY?! People don’t already do this?!” As I am always washing my hands due to what I work(ed) with (cash, much-handled documents) and live with (cats), I was shocked that people had to be told to do this. My hands have aged much faster than the rest of me because of this.
And then my amazing timing kicked in when I gave notice at this job to begin a new one. It seems like the minute I hit send on my resignation email, I started having second thoughts. But the promise of more money and more vacation time were too powerful.
Then the response to COVID-19 startled escalating and the campus closed on my last working day. My new employer kept pushing back my start date due to this. When I got my stimulus money, I used it to pay my bills and rent normally because I would be starting work soon.
My new job finally began, one month later than planned, and fifteen minutes after I got home on the second day, they called and said they were terminating my position because “they decided to go a different way.” Of course they were. I blamed myself for not listening to the barely audible warning bells going off in my head. But the fact is that they did a very unprofessional thing, I don’t care what Illinois employment law says. Luckily, there is karma and they’ll get theirs.
Panic set in, needless to say. I applied for unemployment and started sending out resumes immediately. I had to wait until my claim could be investigated. I was going slightly crazy. Luckily, I have some amazing friends. Your lives were - are - as uncertain as mine. You know who you are. I have a family, even though not my blood, that wouldn’t ever let me be homeless. The kindness and love that everyone showed just blew me away. I will never be able to express my gratitude properly. But please know, y’all are in my daily prayers and meditations. I love you all.
Life settled into a boring routine. I didn’t bake bread because my oven is not the best. (I was hoping to move this autumn, but that will not happen now.) I didn’t read a hundred books, as my concentration is shot. I didn’t learn to paint or throw pottery. No desire. I did manage to take a camera out once in a while for neighbourhood walks, but my output was uninspired for sure. I did start making mixed media collages. An idea long in my mind but with no clear vision. These are organic and will change with time. They are fun, but I have to be in the right mood and the right mood often only lasts just long enough to make one collage.
Then George Floyd was killed by a policeman in Minneapolis and the world caught on fire and Chicago literally burned. The social media cacophony was so loud and nonstop. All the newly woke white people trying so hard to apologise for their years of ignorance and not understanding. The backlash against the still-ongoing protests. The Trump fascist army in Portland. (Now in Chicago.) The blatant racism, unleashed. The anti-maskers versus the masked. The science-deniers versus reality. It was all too much to handle.
How could I be remotely creative or productive? As someone who is (usually) intuitive and always empathetic, I was having a problem following the daily atrocities and hatred and violence. This was without the virus and job worries. I just wanted to go to sleep and not wake up. I kept thinking about what my son wrote in his suicide note, “...the world sucks too much to stay in it...” I started thinking maybe this would be my plan, too. I have spent the last four months being terribly afraid. Afraid of the virus, yes, but more afraid of being homeless. Of letting down rescued Bon Bon. Afraid of being a bother or burden to family and friends. Afraid of dying.
Oh, I could be funny and entertaining. But it was just my old way of putting on one face to hide the truth. I was, and am, still posting daily on Instagram, because it’s a distraction and the validation through likes and the occasional comments were, and are, an escape from my emotions and mind.
I am starting a temporary job next week. Three months. Hopefully they’ll keep me as permanent or I’ll be in this mess again. So I’ll keep looking for work. And try to stay healthy.
I know I’m not the only one who feels like this. I KNOW everyone has worries and fears. And now that I’ve said my dark secrets out loud, maybe I can help another.
Stay healthy, be kind, wear your masks, social distance, and don’t forget about the people in your lives. The seemingly most capable might be the most in need.
https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/
To start, back when I was still working on campus, and virus stories were starting to make an appearance, and we started hearing about washing hands and covering mouths when sneezing, I was like, “SERIOUSLY?! People don’t already do this?!” As I am always washing my hands due to what I work(ed) with (cash, much-handled documents) and live with (cats), I was shocked that people had to be told to do this. My hands have aged much faster than the rest of me because of this.
And then my amazing timing kicked in when I gave notice at this job to begin a new one. It seems like the minute I hit send on my resignation email, I started having second thoughts. But the promise of more money and more vacation time were too powerful.
Then the response to COVID-19 startled escalating and the campus closed on my last working day. My new employer kept pushing back my start date due to this. When I got my stimulus money, I used it to pay my bills and rent normally because I would be starting work soon.
My new job finally began, one month later than planned, and fifteen minutes after I got home on the second day, they called and said they were terminating my position because “they decided to go a different way.” Of course they were. I blamed myself for not listening to the barely audible warning bells going off in my head. But the fact is that they did a very unprofessional thing, I don’t care what Illinois employment law says. Luckily, there is karma and they’ll get theirs.
Panic set in, needless to say. I applied for unemployment and started sending out resumes immediately. I had to wait until my claim could be investigated. I was going slightly crazy. Luckily, I have some amazing friends. Your lives were - are - as uncertain as mine. You know who you are. I have a family, even though not my blood, that wouldn’t ever let me be homeless. The kindness and love that everyone showed just blew me away. I will never be able to express my gratitude properly. But please know, y’all are in my daily prayers and meditations. I love you all.
Life settled into a boring routine. I didn’t bake bread because my oven is not the best. (I was hoping to move this autumn, but that will not happen now.) I didn’t read a hundred books, as my concentration is shot. I didn’t learn to paint or throw pottery. No desire. I did manage to take a camera out once in a while for neighbourhood walks, but my output was uninspired for sure. I did start making mixed media collages. An idea long in my mind but with no clear vision. These are organic and will change with time. They are fun, but I have to be in the right mood and the right mood often only lasts just long enough to make one collage.
Then George Floyd was killed by a policeman in Minneapolis and the world caught on fire and Chicago literally burned. The social media cacophony was so loud and nonstop. All the newly woke white people trying so hard to apologise for their years of ignorance and not understanding. The backlash against the still-ongoing protests. The Trump fascist army in Portland. (Now in Chicago.) The blatant racism, unleashed. The anti-maskers versus the masked. The science-deniers versus reality. It was all too much to handle.
How could I be remotely creative or productive? As someone who is (usually) intuitive and always empathetic, I was having a problem following the daily atrocities and hatred and violence. This was without the virus and job worries. I just wanted to go to sleep and not wake up. I kept thinking about what my son wrote in his suicide note, “...the world sucks too much to stay in it...” I started thinking maybe this would be my plan, too. I have spent the last four months being terribly afraid. Afraid of the virus, yes, but more afraid of being homeless. Of letting down rescued Bon Bon. Afraid of being a bother or burden to family and friends. Afraid of dying.
Oh, I could be funny and entertaining. But it was just my old way of putting on one face to hide the truth. I was, and am, still posting daily on Instagram, because it’s a distraction and the validation through likes and the occasional comments were, and are, an escape from my emotions and mind.
I am starting a temporary job next week. Three months. Hopefully they’ll keep me as permanent or I’ll be in this mess again. So I’ll keep looking for work. And try to stay healthy.
I know I’m not the only one who feels like this. I KNOW everyone has worries and fears. And now that I’ve said my dark secrets out loud, maybe I can help another.
Stay healthy, be kind, wear your masks, social distance, and don’t forget about the people in your lives. The seemingly most capable might be the most in need.
https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/
 |
| © Trish Korous |
oh trish, just keep plodding along. like the rest of us.
ReplyDelete~~susan
I am, Susan, I am. Thank you for reading me. xo
DeleteI hope this new job starts a beautiful new chapter for you, Trish!
ReplyDeleteI hope so, too, Diane. Thank you. xo
Delete