Biting The Hand, Part Three

Yesterday was awful. After only two days at the new sales gig (selling a noble package of reading programs) I bailed. It's been two months since I got laid off from the last bookkeeping gig, and the sales job was commission-only. After another day of only making $20.00, I felt too stressed out to continue. Every rejection yesterday was like swallowing acid; I was crying after every call ended without a sale. Given doing psychotherapy is such an emotionally intense process, and I've been able to develop a reasonably thick skin in containing other people's often wrenching emotional states, it's strange that someone on the phone in Kennebunk or Charlotte telling me they have to check with their husband first could inflict so much damage.

My shame about money is huge. I'm 36 years old, a masters graduate, and I've never made more than $28K in a year of working. And that $28K was years ago—I'll be lucky if I cleared $10K in '08. Granted, I had student loans til August, but due to the implosion of my grad program, I went without my loan check for four months from December '07 to April of last year. And now I've been unemployed for four out of the seven months since graduation. The recession ain't my fault, I'm aware, and it's certainly not my fault that asshat fired me in the disgusting manner he did. But still I lash at myself: why don't you have any savings? Why couldn't you have made better decisions this year? Why are you repellent to money? After quitting yesterday, I made an appointment with my therapist who I haven't been able to afford to see in the last six months. I went on a bike ride to clear my head, landed at a diner where I ordered, you guessed it, chicken strips, and then had my therapy session, which my shrink provided gratis, bless his soul. I felt like shit all day and into the evening; my eyes were puffy and scratchy from crying. When Astrid came home from work, we had a difficult but emotionally connecting conversation.

Today is much better. I woke up early and embarked on the job search anew. I've eaten healthy food in reasonable amounts, I went to the gym, and made contact with a job lead. I did the dishes, mopped the kitchen floor. Did some blog promo work. Had a brief but grounding afternoon visit with Magna, who shared some almonds and dried apricots with me. I'm feeling confident I'll get some income soon. It can't come soon enough, though.