Because of that, I haven't felt very grateful or humble.
I thought, then, that I would share a tiny snippet of the book** I'm working on, which is a work in progress. I thought I'd solicit your opinion. So, please feel free to leave comments or to send me your thoughts via Twitter (@gratefulhumble).
By the way, the progress I've made on the book = reason #81 to take stock and give thanks.
I’ve awoken at a normal time, but for no other reason than to take my boyfriend to work. My wonderful, successful boyfriend, who graduated from a top-three law school and who has quite an impressive resume. Him. The one who never left my side all weekend. Who showed up just moments after I got home on Friday. Midday. Unwillingly. (And I was not sick.)
“I just lost my job,” I’d cried hysterically while being driven home in the back of a sedan. “I have no idea what I’m going to do.” His “I’ll be there in ten minutes” response was ever-so-sensitive, and I literally thanked god that he is nothing if not well-equipped to handle a crisis. “We can eat lunch or go for a ride – whatever you want,” he continued. “But I need to get the car washed anyway, and that would get us out of the city. Why don’t we take a ride out there, and then you can drop me off and take the car afterward?”
And so it was that the two of us drove out of the city and away from the pain. This experience couldn’t have been a pleasure for him, as I both cried hysterically and fielded calls from my best friends along the way. “What happened?” was a question I wasn’t prepared to answer yet, and even if I had been, I wasn’t willing to relive those few painful moments. The truth is, the details about what happened don’t matter all that much when your livelihood is in question in the middle of a recession. The only thing that matters is what comes next. And, without a job, the only thing I had to do that Friday afternoon was ride along to the Mercedes dealership. That was next.
Now, before you go making assumptions about who I am based on my ability to snag a boyfriend who can afford to spend his lunch hour at the Mercedes dealership with his suddenly-unemployed girlfriend, let me say this: I don’t own a car, and I haven’t for five years; I have but a few hundred dollars in my savings account and no idea how I’m going to pay this month’s rent; and though Mr. Wonderful is a financial wiz, he drives a decade-old Mercedes that he bought used and works for our local government. I’m not the well-to-do socialite for whom unemployment is a care-free, extended vacation. In fact, I’m not sure who I am at all anymore, but at that moment on Friday I feel quite sure I was an embarrassingly disheveled woman wandering around a Mercedes dealership while crying every few moments.
Three days later, absolutely nothing has been resolved, so I eagerly undertake any task I am given. At this moment that means I’m dropping off Mr. Wonderful at work once again, because that task is the only item on my “To Do” list.
**I hope this isn't necessary to say, but I was told it is: this work is copyrighted.