After my 1100+ word novella about leaving the Upper East Side, this one will be short and (bitter)sweet.
When one of the Cool Boys gets sick, it’s inevitable: I get sick, too. In this sluggish economy, unemployment is going around, and it finally got around to me. (And no, I didn’t get it by nuzzling some jobless acquaintances.)
When we moved to NYC, I spent two months searching for a job. Those were easily the two most expensive months of my life. Even more costly than my first two months of dating Cool Mum. (All those extravagant date nights at Taco Bell add up, ya know.)
Through a random connection, I landed a job despite dramatic twists that I look back upon as miraculous. I became Office Manager at a non-profit organization.
My boss Catherine, who founded the organization, sought out the best in people, and she was known for her limitless positivity. She supported my love of creatively communicating online and eventually placed me into the position of Director of Communications. I was thrilled. The organization was about to take a significant turn. But not because of my new job.
In October 2009, Catherine was diagnosed with cancer. In May 2010, she died.
In the months after her passing, we worked to steady the organization. We achieved a great deal, but it wasn’t enough to maintain the current course. The organization downsized, and I lost my job before Thanksgiving.
I am deeply grateful for the opportunities that Catherine gave me. I only knew her for two and half years (and they flew by), but her impact on me will be lifelong.
February is here, and I’m still searching for employment as many others are. NYC is sharply competitive; it might take another miracle for me to get a job. I’m fine with that. I just hope it happens soon.
photo: alexstaubo
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