A Letter To My Employed Self

It doesn’t have to be new to be enjoyed. This has always been one of my favourite posts and I sincerely hope becomes one of yours too. Happy #tbt

State of the Ward

There’s a book by author Joseph Galliano called “Dear Me: A letter to my sixteen-year-old self”. It’s a wonderful compilation of letters written by people to their younger selves. Some of the writers are famous, some unknown and all are fabulous. If you haven’t read it, you should. If you have, you understand.

If we could go back and do it all again, some of us would do it exactly the same and some of us would write a hasty letter to warn our younger selves to do it all very differently. Likewise, perhaps when you look back at your last job some of you reflect and think, I’d do it exactly the same. But perhaps, some days, or maybe just in some instances, you think there are things you would do very differently. I do.

Inspired by the idea, I wrote a letter to my previously employed self…

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Objective: Get out of bed

It started like any other day. The sun rose, the birds chirped, the dogs barked, the morning air was fresh. I half expected Mr. Rogers to open my bedroom door and burst into “it’s a beautiful day in the neighbourhood”. So when the mailman showed up it was just in keeping with the theme. Until, that is, I inspected the mail a little closer. Let’s see, bill, bill, thank you note from church I attended with invite to come back (not likely, they were weird), bill and ah, why yes, a bill. And just like that my glorious morning turned gloomy.

While unemployment generally sucks, every day isn’t the same. Some days you’ll awake ready to conquer the universe. Some you’ll be quiet and reflective. On others you’ll busy yourself with chores, and the sense of accomplishment that comes from a clean house will minimize the rejection you feel from an empty in-box.  There are days of despair, loneliness and confusion. Days of optimism, faith and hope.

And then, there are days like today. When going back to bed and starting over seems the only sensible option. Apologies to those who were expecting some profound note of wisdom, today I have none. I’m going back to bed and to sleep.  I’ll try again tomorrow. We’ll go hunting together then. Promise.