My husband's contract that was supposed to end in April has been extended for the third time, for six more months.
The deal is that his position was taken over by another department at the university, and that department posted the position, at a much lower salary, and my husband applied for it.
After a three-month process, he's been told that he is on probation with the new department for six months--keeping his salary. At that time, the job will be posted again, and if they like his performance so far, he will be given a permanent job at the university.
As I told my husband, I think they want to pay him more, and when the job gets re-posted, the salary will be higher. They can't just pay him more right now on a permanent position, because there is a union involved, and they have to be careful to follow procedure.
At any rate, the whole enchilada has affected me at several levels. When he first told me in March that he only had one month of contract left, I thought I was going to die.
Then I considered the possibility of going back to the workforce and have been thinking/planning for it since. I've been doing all this, basically, with a gun over my head: I work or else.
I know now that my husband will probably work at the university for the rest of his career. It's a great place to work (five weeks of holidays a year, one of them being around Christmas). Benefits are great and the work environment is excellent. This is the first time in his career that he doesn't have to carry a pager and constantly get up in the middle of the night to fix problems.
But I just went through a Career Exploration course with a cloud over my head--will he be employed in October or not?
I don't believe I was thinking clearly. Now I probably am. It almost feels like I need to go through the course again, taking the new knowledge into account.
In other words, without the pressure of having to work, I don't know what to do. I need to redefine my needs and desires now that I am not under duress.
It occurs to me that I should get a volunteer position on each of my areas of interest, just to see how much I like doing the jobs. Perhaps I should contact organizations with the volunteer idea in mind.
Wow! Writing this has been helpful. If anybody reads it, thank you for your patience. This is one of those rare occasions when I just write without an outline. This is journaling at its best.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
They like him -- They like him not
So husband may lose his job in two weeks or he may not.
If he loses it, he has to start looking for work. He hasn’t yet. Why?
Because he works at a major university and he wants to stay there. The benefits are awesome. Plus, he isn’t very good at looking for work while still employed--or ever.
The gig is actually ending at the end of September, his contractor gig, that is. But the position will become permanent, under a different department, and he’s applied for it.
They were supposed to tell him last week. They haven’t said anything yet. But a higher up told him the rumor is that he’s been chosen. Nobody can figure out why my husband hasn’t been told yet.
What does all this mean to me?
If he keeps his job, I’ll have great benefits and the guarantee of an income. We can perfectly live happily ever after with that money. So it does mean a lot to me. No wonder I am in such agony.
It will also mean that I'll have time for a little retraining before the economy bounces back and I start seriously looking for work. What I’m thinking I’ll do is volunteer in my areas of interest, just to see what it is that I like doing for work.
If he doesn’t get the job, I’ll have to look for work immediately, doing anything. I may still take a few courses, but I will be depleting our savings and that makes me nervous.
Also, the anxiety of not knowing when he’ll work again may set my fight-or-flight response in high gear, making me hard to live with and jeopardizing my already fragile health.
Our anxiety level is very high right now. We can’t make any plans. We can’t look at the future too enthusiastically, because we are facing the possibility of a long winded job search.
The good news is that his contract does expire on September 30, and we will know by then for sure. For now, I will have to continue pulling petals off the flower, “They like him. They like him not.”
If he loses it, he has to start looking for work. He hasn’t yet. Why?
Because he works at a major university and he wants to stay there. The benefits are awesome. Plus, he isn’t very good at looking for work while still employed--or ever.
The gig is actually ending at the end of September, his contractor gig, that is. But the position will become permanent, under a different department, and he’s applied for it.
They were supposed to tell him last week. They haven’t said anything yet. But a higher up told him the rumor is that he’s been chosen. Nobody can figure out why my husband hasn’t been told yet.
What does all this mean to me?
If he keeps his job, I’ll have great benefits and the guarantee of an income. We can perfectly live happily ever after with that money. So it does mean a lot to me. No wonder I am in such agony.
It will also mean that I'll have time for a little retraining before the economy bounces back and I start seriously looking for work. What I’m thinking I’ll do is volunteer in my areas of interest, just to see what it is that I like doing for work.
If he doesn’t get the job, I’ll have to look for work immediately, doing anything. I may still take a few courses, but I will be depleting our savings and that makes me nervous.
Also, the anxiety of not knowing when he’ll work again may set my fight-or-flight response in high gear, making me hard to live with and jeopardizing my already fragile health.
Our anxiety level is very high right now. We can’t make any plans. We can’t look at the future too enthusiastically, because we are facing the possibility of a long winded job search.
The good news is that his contract does expire on September 30, and we will know by then for sure. For now, I will have to continue pulling petals off the flower, “They like him. They like him not.”
Monday, September 7, 2009
Look Ma, no Hands
Every time I see a little kid seeking attention, wanting to be seen, pulling her mom’s skirt, I remember who I was…in my late 30’s.
I had learned in counseling and in books that children who do not get the needed attention as babies and toddlers grow up physically but not emotionally. The love hole remains and we behave like children for the rest of our lives.
But it takes time for intellectual knowledge to make it to the part of the brain that controls behaviour—at least in my case.
It would be nice if when we find out the error of our ways we were also able to turn a switch off and act completely different. But, out of habit, we continue making the same mistakes, less often with any luck.
The good news for me is that I am finally acting like an adult, sometimes. I try, with some success, to save those unguarded moments for my husband and for therapy. But I can turn childlike very easily when I get too excited, like when watching live tennis, for instance.
My biggest problem is when people seem open and accepting. Then I open up, my childish behaviour rears its ugly head, and then I wear the unsuspecting stranger out. Then they’re sorry they ever started a conversation with me.
The problem with that situation is that it seems I should never open up to anyone, because I lack brakes. But being always guarded makes me an aloof, unapproachable, boring-to-be with person.
The answer is, of course, balance. But how can a person who received so little love and so much hate aspire to such precious virtue as balance? I don’t know.
All I know is that in an ideal world, I would have people who accept me just the way I am: likely to get super excited like a child sometimes, but able to be a sound adult with an enormous capacity to make decisions and to perform efficiently at others.
People who deal with me should, ideally, have the capacity to bear with my multiple personalities, also known as moods: quite happy and childish, extremely disappointed, very angry, deeply concentrated and on task, confused like a deer in the headlights (when the facts don’t add up).
It just downed on me that when an employer asks me, “So, Unrepentant, what’s your greatest weakness?” I need to find a nice way to tell them that I am moody and have extreme emotions.
I think I have my work cut out for me.
I had learned in counseling and in books that children who do not get the needed attention as babies and toddlers grow up physically but not emotionally. The love hole remains and we behave like children for the rest of our lives.
But it takes time for intellectual knowledge to make it to the part of the brain that controls behaviour—at least in my case.
It would be nice if when we find out the error of our ways we were also able to turn a switch off and act completely different. But, out of habit, we continue making the same mistakes, less often with any luck.
The good news for me is that I am finally acting like an adult, sometimes. I try, with some success, to save those unguarded moments for my husband and for therapy. But I can turn childlike very easily when I get too excited, like when watching live tennis, for instance.
My biggest problem is when people seem open and accepting. Then I open up, my childish behaviour rears its ugly head, and then I wear the unsuspecting stranger out. Then they’re sorry they ever started a conversation with me.
The problem with that situation is that it seems I should never open up to anyone, because I lack brakes. But being always guarded makes me an aloof, unapproachable, boring-to-be with person.
The answer is, of course, balance. But how can a person who received so little love and so much hate aspire to such precious virtue as balance? I don’t know.
All I know is that in an ideal world, I would have people who accept me just the way I am: likely to get super excited like a child sometimes, but able to be a sound adult with an enormous capacity to make decisions and to perform efficiently at others.
People who deal with me should, ideally, have the capacity to bear with my multiple personalities, also known as moods: quite happy and childish, extremely disappointed, very angry, deeply concentrated and on task, confused like a deer in the headlights (when the facts don’t add up).
It just downed on me that when an employer asks me, “So, Unrepentant, what’s your greatest weakness?” I need to find a nice way to tell them that I am moody and have extreme emotions.
I think I have my work cut out for me.
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