Job Hunting

       There are so many reasons not to look for a job, and I've invented most of them. I don't have anything to wear. I must lose five pounds. I need to get a haircut. I have to write a new resume. I'm too old. I'm too short. I have no skills. I have a sore toe. Yes, all of these things are good reasons to hide in my office day after day.
       When I first left the catering business and moved to the country, I walked the cottonfield every day, or trekked to the railroad tracks to watch the trains go by. I was relieved not to be working, and found beauty in little things in my environment - a flower, a swarm of tiny insects, an armadillo that was ruining my garden, coyotes howling in the evening. The sun seemed brighter, the air cleaner. It was like living in a brand, new world.
     But all of that goes away quickly when you run out of money and there's no one to talk to all day long. And you get so caught up in your own little bubble that the world keeps spinning around without you, and you wonder how that could be possible.
       It's humbling, for sure. So yesterday, I got out of my pajamas and wrote a resume. Not a brilliant one, but at least all the words are spelled properly. Then I searched my closet and found a pair of black pants and suit jacket that could pass as job-hunting attire. Then I made a list of places that I could apply for work. All of those tasks took about two hours. I spent the rest of the day sick with dread.
       But this morning, I'm feeling pretty good, and thinking about all the things that have come to me without my asking for them. A beautiful sunset. A smile from a stranger. My grandchildren. Incredible things that happen every day without doing anything to actually make them happen. So as I go out and look for work today, I think of the possibilities out there, and with some effort on my part, I know I will find my place in the world.