Uncertainty

The loss of my primary source of income in late September felt like a punch in the stomach, but I quickly grew to embrace the employment challenge. I hoped that it was an opportunity, one that would allow me to find open doors and dare to walk through them. There was a financial grace period of several months, per my bank statement, that would provide ample time to network and make things happen, and my already prepaid trip to France was an eye-opening and relaxing motivator. By the time I returned from Nice, I was energized.

My energy often manifested itself in positivity. When asked how the job search was moving along, I was unceasingly optimistic. “I’ve got leads,” I would say. “Lots of possibilities.” “Plenty of time to make things happen.” “I’m not worried.”

I would now call those partial truths. And the reality of the situation hit me this week. A culmination of negative occurrences on Monday, most of which were minor on their own, came together to create the perfect storm of emotion. It started with anger and quickly devolved into depression as the reality of the situation hit: none of the leads were panning out, I didn’t have much time, and I was worried. Terribly worried.

Sinking in to familiar territory, it has been a week of utter negativity. Five years of immersion in the poker industry, working seven days a week and reading nearly everything written about poker, netted few work opportunities and none that could pay the bills. Said experience also doesn’t translate well to any other industry to which I hoped to transition. And on an even deeper level, I was unnecessary, not only in the work world but in my personal life. My voice wasn’t trusted, no matter how many times I’m proven to be right in the end, and my assets weren’t required, even for the simplest tasks among friends. I couldn’t even seem to walk around my own apartment without spilling things (iced tea all over the dining room floor), injuring myself (twisting my ankle standing up from a chair), or screwing up simple food dishes (worst macaroni and cheese ever made). Thanksgiving even came and went with a whimper. Woe was me.

Today is better by a small but significant margin. A solid night’s sleep and early rise have me seated at my computer with hope.

The possibility that I will be forced to obtain an office job in January looms, and the chance that such a job may not even be available in this economic environment weighs even heavier. My challenge over the next month is to focus on other options, no matter how unreachable those goals may seem. I’ll continue to apply for writing jobs and send queries to magazines and websites. I’ll work on the start-up website with a friend that may - down the road - produce tangible results. I will write out my television show treatments and send them to every agent in town, no matter the odds. I will research my small business idea, despite not having the faintest idea of where to start.

Hibernation out of self-pity is a comfortable place to be. But without putting forth the effort to change my current situation, I’m all too familiar with the place in which I’ll end up, and I don’t want to go there again.

So here I sit, at my trusty laptop on a quiet Saturday morning, ready to give myself a fair chance.