For My Fallen Comrades
One by one, gentle readers, you are going out into the world. You are leaving this world of unemployment and entering the big, bad world of employment. And you are leaving your MatchGirl behind.
This is a post that your MatchGirl started on Thursday of last week. I'd had an interview on Wednesday morning, that I felt pretty good about. I'd had a productive day, with a Work It Brooklyn meeting in the afternoon and a photography reception and drinks with friends in the evening. Somewhere in there, however, I logged on to Facebook and saw that my dear friend Tony, one of my great allies and commiserators in this unemployed Brooklyn world, had gotten a job. Don't get me wrong, dear ones, your MatchGirl could not have been happier to see her friend employed. We've been jobless for about the same amount of time and have long discussions about how terrified we are of what will happen when those unemployment checks stop coming it.
I commented on his post: Yay! (But slightly sad to lose my neighborhood unemployed buddy)
And to me he commented: @unemployedbklyn - your time is coming soon!
Yeah yeah yeah. I woke up Thursday morning feeling bummed out and unmotivated. I followed up on Wednesday's interview. I sent out a few resumes. I started to write this blog post. But I put it aside. I kept thinking about how hard I had been looking for a job and how much I really wanted one. I kept thinking of all the hard work I have been doing in this past year to push myself forward and to advocate for the unemployed community and to form coalitions in Greenpoint and Williamsburg. I kept thinking of all the people I have connected for work and for social purposes and jobs I have referred people for. And I kept wondering when it would happen to me. When will it happen for me?
The answer, gentle readers, has come.
When would my time come? It came on Friday.
I was on the playground in Carroll Gardens, Brooklyn, waiting in line for the swing set with my charge. It was a little after 3PM. And, having a moment with Leo standing patiently at my side and not riding his scooter around in crazy circles, I had a moment to peek at my phone and check my email and my Twitter and Facebook feeds. And there it was. "Offer of employment..."
Oh. My. God.
This was something my four year old charge could not comprehend. But he knew, by the look on my face, that something amazing had happened. He asked me what was going on, giving me an incredulous look. My smile was huge and I said, "I got a job." I'm fairly certain it was a whisper. "I got a job."
Here's the thing, dear readers. This is not exciting news to a four year old. He said "oh" and ran to take his turn, Superman style, on the swing.
The details are still being ironed out. I'm still finding out about when I'll start and dress-code and all of those small yet very important things. It feels surreal and I don't really know how to tell you about it. Not yet.
Don't worry, though, my faithful friends and fans, I have no plans of abandoning you. I will try as hard as I can to keep this little blog going forward and chock-full of all the information you have found relevant over the year. It's because of you, after all, that I had the experiences that I need for the type of job I will be doing moving forward.
Thank you. For reading. For commenting. For lending me the kind of support that I didn't even know I could get via people I've never met before. Just thank you.