The one where I try not to panic

The engineering company where I used to work did some major downsizing yesterday, and 30 people were let go—including my husband, Tim.

Today he will begin treating looking for a job like a job. He has a plan of attack, and I’m trying very hard not to panic.

What does this mean? I don’t know, really, I’m too busy trying not to freak out to think calmly. He’s taking it infinitely better than I am (or at least he is now, but he may start to flip out later today when he starts to job hunt). I will definitely keep you all posted, but meanwhile… if you hear of anyone who needs a SQL Server Database Administrator, or a Visual Basic Programmer, or a really nice guy who can cut down trees and hang drywall with equal ability… Tim’s suddenly available!

Blargh. Even though I said without hesitation to him that if we need to move, I will move… I’m in a spin. Headspin? Tailspin? Freakout spin? I’ve lived here most of my life; not because I am stuck here but because I love it here. I love Gainesville. I’m not attached to this house; we could sell it and move and I wouldn’t feel a deep loss. I am, however, a little attached to my job. I’m far more concerned about the shop than any other aspect of us moving out of Gainesville. Friends, family; people whom I love and love me will never disappear from my life (heck, I started blogging to keep in touch with folks who live far away). But I own a small business with two other people… What happens to the yarn store if I have to cut out and move to a far away city? Anything within about an hours drive I would consider still commutable… but if Tim gets a great job offer from Atlanta…? OK: I need to not think about this. Everyone think positively – that Tim will find a job within the very narrow window of time that we have before we are suddenly homeless with a bunch of pets, books, and yarn… and that Tim will find a job within the Gainesville/Ocala/Jacksonville range.

Perhaps today’s poll will be something about the best ways to deal with total blind panic. Flailing one’s arms around in the air, and all.

14 comments

  1. One day at a time, Dear. It won’t be what you’re worried about, no matter what you’re worried about. And it will all work out. Deep breaths. Your Tim is one of the most resourceful people we know. He always lands on his feet and so do you. Big hugs, Aunt Gay

  2. One foot in front of the other. Tim has such a marketable skill set + is a super nice guy. That combo is hard to beat. Networking for you guys as much as I can. Hugs!

  3. Lore, please check the email I just sent you regarding helping out Timmah.
    Laura and I are thinking of you both.

  4. I wish Tim and you all the best. I hope he finds something local so that you don’t have to move. Not only is there the shop, but how else would we get updates on the house across the street? Feel free to call if you need to vent.

    Love you both.

    • ROFL! I read that out loud at work yesterday, and the folks who were sitting around were all, “hell yeah! Unrentable Death House!” ;p

  5. Let’s hope another company sees his many talents and offers him a great job soon.
    Oh, if only this had happened a couple weeks ago I could have hired him to do my drywall in the new rooms. But that part was finished today. Darn.

    • He’s already started looking, and also thanks to our wonderful friends, we have a great network of places to send a resume. He’s taking it much more positively than I am, and hopes to be interviewing by the end of next week.

  6. Welcome to my world. I was let go about 4 months ago.

    My advice: Cobra coverage. Because, you know, health. 2) downsize your operation – no new hobbies, 3) meet your local library, 4) pretend you are a hippie and make every meal as cheap and nutritious as you can (hit the books).

    5) Stop spending anything that you can – adios cable, Netflix, cellphone (if you have a landline), every damn thing.

    6) Keep your spirit up – depression will cause a noticeable lack of performance. This is an adventure, not cancer.

    7) Lean on your friends for their good feelings. I swear to God, one good afternoon with a friend can salvage a week.

    • That would be great advice, except that we’ve been a one-income (Tim’s income) family for the last two years and have already taken most of those steps (not the Cobra, but we do have insurance through the end of this month). There’s not too much else we can shave off of our expenses, unless we pull a Shackleton and kill the pets and eat their food. But since it’s all got chicken and fish in it, that would just land me in the ER. Not so much fun! Hey, maybe we should just eat the pets… I don’t think I’m allergic to cat… <--KIDDING!

  7. I can’t believe what I just read. I’m speechless. I know nothing I say can really remove that growing pit you have in your stomach but know that I’m sending you lots of hugs and positive job lead vibes. I know Paul has seen a few SQL and/or Visual Basic postings… but they’re all in the Bay Area. As much as I love the idea of you in SF, I can’t imagine that’s really in the cards. However if you are interested I’ll have Paul forward them to me and then I can forward them to you. Nothing like a bucket brigade for job postings!

    Lots of hugs, my friend!

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