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Created on: April 12, 2007 Last Updated: May 01, 2007
No Place to Call Home-A Personal Memoir
Most of my working life has included holding two and more positions at once. I raised three amazing kids on my own-my income was our only source for support. Occasionally throughout the past 14 years since my divorce, a few miserly checks arrived without warning, from their father. He had conveniently moved a continents distance away to avoid his responsibilities and start a new life alone. He has only seen his children a handful of times and only at my invitation and travel expense. There were difficult times, yet even though we were poor by definition, we always had fun just being together. My kids are out of necessity, very wise beyond their young years. All three have been my greatest source of comfort and pride.
By the summer of 2006, my kids had all but moved on to start lives of their own. I was crushed in spirit, grieving for the demise of my little family's era, and unable to focus on possibilities for the next exciting phase of my life. I was depressed. Suddenly, everything I was doing didn't make sense anymore. Tunnel vision had saved us all those years; when I was working day and night, putting myself through school, living on four hours sleep nightly for months or longer. Everything I did, every move I made and every job I loathed but continued to endure was for them. Now they were gone and my whole purpose for waking up every morning followed them right out the front door.
I walked away from my job at the end of August. I had been tending bar for years, very successfully. Compared with the mundane, less lucrative income of other career choices I had made, working as a bartender allowed us to enjoy a slightly better standard of living. Sure it wasn't always easy to smile politely when a drunk was extolling the virtues of my cleavage; and sometimes I was afraid while diffusing arguments dangerously close to becoming a fist fight. But I was 'addicted' to my nightly cash incentive. Counting out hundreds of dollars in tips can be very heady. Now that I was alone, the compensation wasn't worth the hassle.
I spent a week catching up on my sleep. lounging around, and taking long walks. It wasn't long before I felt restless and bored. Sure of my ability to get another job, I set out hunting for any position that might keep me interested. I applied at a number of companies and bars; any place hiring; with no luck. What was happening? I never had to look long and hard before. Usually I was hired immediately at the first
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