Jan 25, 2009 1
Scared
Sigh. Just watched the report on “60 Minutes” about the death of DHL and the consequences of that on Wilmington. Every day new reports on the economy, every day, bad reports on the economy.
And here I am…doing an NRC postdoc that I love, a contract job that ends the end of July. Every week I send out resumes. Every week I apply for jobs.
And yet I am picky. Can I afford to be picky? I say to myself, “I don’t want to do another postdoc.” I say, “I want a real job, with real responsibility.” And yet, all I see that fits my skillset are postdocs. Every day a new postdoc call. Every day another postdoc that I could do. And yet I know I wouldn’t like it.
I can’t be picky, can I? Am I allowed to say that I won’t apply because I won’t like the job? A job is a job. Who am I to say that every day?
And above all else, I am scared. I am so scared. I try not to let it show, and I think I’m mildly successful. If nothing else, I can get through the day. Every day.
But then comes the night. At night, my stoicism fails. At night, I become scared and I cannot stop myself. Every night, I seem to experience some new fear. Every night I seem to have fitful sleep, the sleep of the unsure, the sleep of the American worker.
And yet, every day I wake up. Every day I go to work or I think about work. I think how I can show the universe that I can do work, that I am worth work.
And I think about my family and how they love me. How they support me. Every day.
Finally, I think of one more person. A person I care about more than I thought I ever could. She is the bright light in my life. She is my surety in unsure times. I think of her every week. Every day. Every hour. Ever. Always.
And still, I am scared.
