Unemployment Math

Recently, I’ve been doing some math.

Yes, me; the girl who argued with her 6th grade teacher over the necessity of knowing how to do fractions in the real world; me, the girl who barely passed the required high school level math courses; me, the girl who still hands every restaurant bill to her husband to figure out the tip. Frankly, I know what I’m good at and math ain’t one of ‘em. So I avoid it. Like a responsible adult. I’m truly dreading the day when I’ll have to sit with my kids and help with their math homework…

But given my current life-status, I seem to be surrounded by numbers.

Here’s a few of them:

76

Seventy-six days since I officially became a drain on the American tax dollar. Seventy-six days since I joined the ranks of the gainfully unemployed. Days upon days of sameness—laziness and boredom became my enemy. Some were better than others; like the day my dad took me on a theater date to the city—something I never would’ve been able to do if I had been working. Others were just plain hard; days when the quiet got to me and my anxiety took over my consciousness.

“Maybe this is my new reality,” my intrusive thoughts would try to convince. Maybe they let me go for a reason…

Imposter syndrome is your unwelcomed frenemy when you’ve been laid-off…

5

Five pounds lost in that first week. Awesome for the lingering baby weight, not so much for my psyche.

10

Ten sleepless nights—also a contributing factor to the weight loss.

11

Eleven days later, my husband got the boot from his work, too—we had to laugh (as opposed to crying) at the ridiculousness of us both losing our jobs less than two weeks apart.

The crying came later.

2650

Two thousand, six hundred and fifty dollars: the cost to keep us (and our two children) on our current medical plan. Fifty dollars less than our mortgage.

*Yes, this is absolute INSANITY and something that is not sustainable, especially with two of us out of work—even with two severance packages. But two kids with no medical coverage isn’t exactly an option so luckily, we qualified for the Affordable Care Act and were able to find a plan that was better suited for our budget.*

7

Seven days to perfect my resume and cover letter. Don’t mind bragging…both are *chef’s kiss*

4

Four hours of daily, dedicated job searching. Which resulted in…

209

Two hundred and nine job applications: filled out and submitted through LinkedIn, Workforce, company websites etc. etc. etc. Give or take a few—since I neglected to keep an Excel log like my husband suggested. *insert eye roll*

*One thing to mention from my VAST applying experience: there needs to be a centralized hub for ALL job applications, where you can fill out the non-discriminatory questions ONCE. I 100% understand why those questions—like your gender and race—are necessary, but can we not do it once, have it autofill in all supplicant applications so we reclaim those wasted minutes back to our day? To, you know, apply for more jobs…*

*Also job sites—like LinkedIn—are basically dating sites. The ropes you have to jump through to get noticed and the mental anguish when you get ghosted—yeah…it’s familiar.*

*Applying is a numbers game; even if you don’t meet every requirement, send the application in the hopes something will stick. But saying that…this number is PSCYHOTIC. And a numerical example of my generalized anxiety—Hi, have we met? My way of coping with things out of my control is to overcompensate with the things I CAN control; thus me applying for everything and anything at all hours of the day. It became semi-obsessive; a constant scroll of job sites when I should be relaxing at 7 o’clock on a Sunday. *

*DON’T BE A JENA. *

*She crazy…*

35

Thirty-five PDU hours earned towards my PMP (Project Management Professional) Certification—a certification I need to make any big moves in corporate America. I needed something to keep my brain from turning to mush and I figured this would be a productive use of my “time off.” Now time to take the exam…Lord help me, there’s a lot of MATH!

7

Seven recruiter calls, all ending with, “It’s really a tough market right now. Hang tight; we’ll find you something,” only to never hear from them again.

1

One extra family day a week, to take our boys on “adventures” to the zoo, aquarium and playgrounds.

*Yes, we’re both home but the boys still go to my parents once a week and to daycare their normal three. And before you leave unsolicited advice/comment—we did not want to disrupt their routine. Our world was rocked but theirs didn’t need to be. Both are far too young to fully comprehend that mummy and daddy lost their jobs and we wanted to keep it that way. Yes, pulling them out of daycare would’ve saved us a lot of money but where would we be if we got jobs right away? Worse off because we lost their spots in said programs. They LOVE their school, so the gain outweighed the financial cost.*

*Plus, the job hunt became our fulltime jobs.*

13

Thirteen HR screens. Most were cold calls—which were the worst, especially when I was rusty to the process. Eventually I got into a good cadence and knew exactly the key points to touch on in these ten to fifteen minute conversations. You need to be your most shiny and outgoing self because HR recruiters are the gatekeepers; impress them and you’re more likely to get through to the hiring manager.

The goal: GET THE FIRST INTERVIEW SCHEDULED!

4

Four final-round interviews, including one flight to Austin, TX to meet with a prospective leadership team in person.

And now, here I am. Waiting for the end to all of this.

Waiting for an offer—or two—with a ticket to my next big chapter. I’d be lying if I said its been a great reset and that I’ve enjoyed every second of the last seventy-six days; parts of it have been okay, but the mental anguish has been killer. There should be a study done on the brains of people who’ve been laid off; there’s no way your brain chemistry isn’t damaged from the ups and downs of unemployment. Even now, when the end is so close for me, I still feel the pang of self doubt and worthiness. I know that’s just my quasi-PTSD from this experience and that it will eventually lessen, but this experience has changed a lot of who I am.

But I’m sure glad I won’t be adding any additional numbers to the above.

To all those out there still in trenches, know this; don’t give up.

The job search SUCKS. Beyond sucks. But eventually, the end will be in sight. Something will find its way to you; something that will fulfill your professional needs and get you to that next goal. Keep pushing. Keep those applications going—maybe not as hardcore as mine ;/ Keep those intrusive thoughts at bay.

And try to enjoy a bit of freedom before you’re forced back into the working world.

Which is my next goal.