Jane’s last day into that misaligned technical role ended innocuously. She received two paid weeks to look for work matching her career scope. Other than assisting as she could within her skillset, that time was spent job hunting. Time to go. She went to her lead’s office.
“Any prospects lined up?”
“Nothing solid. I have two interviews lined up soon.”
“I’m so sorry this happened to you. You have my contact information. Stay in touch!”
One last visit to the manager.
She arrived to overhearing a heated conversation. After peering in, she stood outside the semi-open door, looking over her generic badge and company keys. Michelle noticed and motioned for her to enter. “Thank you again for your consideration, Michelle.” “Sure, sure. You have my contact information. Let me know if you need a reference.” “Will do.” “Oh, this is it? Anything lined up?” “Nothing solid. Two interviews lined up.” “That sucks! Here’s my contact info!” She exchanged company property for contact information before leaving.
Jane walked out of Eville Loans ‘a free agent.’
She jumped into her modest Track-King 100 pickup truck on that sunny spring afternoon and waited for the old gal to warm-up. This month’s bills paid in full. Living in a low-rent apartment, debt-free, had its benefits. It wasn’t a lay-off, so no unemployment benefits, but that wasn’t the goal. She just wanted a job in her field again. A full-time hobby, almost, to keep her mind off things. Warehouse and moving work paid just enough of the bills sustain her through everything except any minor concert extravagance or health emergency.
“Where to go? What to do?”
Nowhere pressing to go. No customer to help. No pertinent work to do. No one needed any technology assistance, no one was interested in giving her a chance to do what she was capable of doing, and every opportunities seemed dim. Even those two interviews weren’t great. Just another delivery job with a long commute or some temporary work. The agency hadn’t been much help, either, with every opportunity being a subtle backhanded slap about everything from current employment status to skill set or five-year plan.
The truck was ready to go, but she wasn’t quite there yet.
Wedged between the console and passenger seat was Jane’s favorite book. Written just before execution by a brilliant strategist, she’d read it over 50 times, in good times and bad. This well-worn book contained pithy statements about dragging yourself, your troops, and your nation out of incredibly dire circumstances. Certain passages resonated fiercer than lightning. She picked up the book, opened the cover, and read over the inscribed note. “If you need my help, call me anytime. I’m here for you. Your friend, Sammohini.”
She didn’t want to be a nuisance again.
Jane took a deep breath. She thought back to that argument, years back. “Pick yourself up, Jane!” “S-sorry…” “No, I’m sorry. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” “T-thank… y-you.”
“ ‘Let’s get you cleaned up and back to looking for work.‘ ”
|Sources: My career experience. This entry in this trilogy is about 33% based on my real world experiences.
Inspirations: The need to tell this story.
Photo: Taken during a lull before a meeting.