No witty title
By now, you all must surely think I’d given up on the blog, since it’s been six months since my last
confession blog post. So many things have happened since May. I’ll break them down for you.
In July, I went to work one day, and promptly got laid off. They said they were doing a restructuring, and eliminated my position. A big ball of crap, in my opinion, but whatever. They did have the nerve to ask me to stay a couple hours to transition my work. I dropped all of my files into a shared folder, said, if you can’t find it, then you’re a moron, and grabbed my stuff and left. I have been on numerous interviews since, and had one temp job that I knew was not right for me a week in, though I stuck it out a whole month just because I’m that kind of person.
Prior to the temp job, I utilized my time “off” as efficiently as possible. Meaning, I hit boot camp classes more often, took long bike rides, and went to the beach. I can’t recall a time where I’ve ever had this much “me” time, time to focus on me, so I used it to my advantage. Because of all the exercise, I have managed to whittle away close to 20 pounds. I also did a 30 mile bike tour at the end of September, my first, and definitely not my last. I’m aiming to do the 5 boro bike tour in NYC in May, just waiting to see what finances look like at the beginning of the year before I drop the $75 admission fee.
Now we’re at the reason why I dusted off the blog. Hurricane (Superstorm?) Sandy. You may know that I live on the Jersey Shore. My town got evacuated Sunday night of the impending storm. The kid and I went to my brother’s (about 15-20 minutes from our house, but inland, on a hill, and on the second floor), while the husband stayed to keep an eye on the house, with the promise that if it got REALLY bad, he’d leave and come to us. He left on Monday, rafting his way thru the streets of town, to a place where he could meet a friend who ended up driving him to us (raft was purchased last year for hurricane Irene, a damn good purchase!). We ended up losing power shortly after dark on Monday, at my brother’s, but we were all safe. Tuesday, after high tide, we went to check on our house. The first thing I noticed about our house was the water line on the front of the house. It was clear as day, no mistaking what it was, and about 3 feet high. The problem with this, is that our house stands about 3 feet up off the ground. Yeah.
Open the door to find a disaster. Things knocked around, visible water lines on the walls, wet carpet on the stairs and under the dining room table. The laminate flooring squished under our footsteps. It was disconcerting to see my possessions thrown around like rag dolls and wet with seawater. The scene of my kitchen from my dining room:
That big black thing is my fridge, pulled from the wall, flipped on its front, turned and pushed to the middle of the kitchen. WATER did this. It’s almost unbelievable that this happened to us.
Today, we have friends coming to help us remove everything that we hadn’t already tossed into a gigantic trash pile on our lawn before leaving town and heading on our already planned cruise (Grand Turk, happy birthday to me!!). There will be another gigantic trash pile on my lawn tomorrow, full of sheetrock, drywall, and insulation. The first floor is to be gutted. I learned yesterday from our contractor that even the tile in the kitchen will need to be pulled. The cabinets on the floor will need to be trashed.
I’m really sad and depressed today, already at 8:15am. I’ve got no job, no prospects of a job (though I do have another agency interview later this week), an impending pile of trash on my lawn, an impending gutted house. I can’t be the happy go-lucky person I normally am today. It hurts too much. But I know that I am luckier than most, that what I lost is just STUFF, and that it WILL be ok. I just have to have my day or two of sadness. I think I’m entitled to it.
Next time, knits from vacation…a pair of socks for the kid (size US 11 mens), a scarf, and 1/2 of a cardigan. Yeah, all this “me” time gives me plenty of knitting time.