Our life got a rude interruption on Tuesday. Steve lost his job. The owner decided he didn’t want to be a business owner any more and shut down the Springfield office. Steve received pay for the time he’d worked and two weeks’ of vacation pay. That’s it. I spent 24 hours in shock and Steve launched in to “get a job” mode. My first instinct is survival and to figure out what we could sell to get some money coming in. Steve said not to do anything drastic until Monday. As of yesterday (less than 24 hours later), two serious job possibilities had been presented. Word is out that Steve’s looking and both of these companies are interested in him.
I know God has a plan. I know things work for a reason. I don’t know the answer and I don’t know what lies ahead. I’d like to believe that all will work out and something better is out there. If I start thinking the worst, I’ll go crazy.
The hardest part of this, for me, is accepting things from people. I’m great at giving. Lose your job/house/car? I’ll help. Need a place to stay or a meal? Call me. But if it’s me needing the same I have trouble accepting it. Yesterday, I walked into the gym thinking a workout would do me good, but I ended up in tears before I got there. I walked in and Pavel said, “Are you crying?!” I explained the situation and immediately he said I could keep working out for free and he’d call it “depression therapy.” Then he called John (a regular) over and they started brainstorming contacts and companies. It’s obvious I’m blessed with so many good friends. Last night, Duane and Prudy treated us to a very nice dinner and said if our house sells we can just put everything in storage and live in their basement (which is almost bigger than our house). They were serious.
Yes, this situation sucks and I’m a mess, but I have a weird calmness about me that it will all work out. Our house is still on the market because Steve believes we should just go about our regular business. It’s forcing me to take stock of what’s really important, to reassess my spending habits and to thank God daily for the blessings I have.
Pretty Pretty Bang Bang 
I think you’re doing the right thing. I know that panic, and I know the weird calm that hits you at the right time. If I can do anything, you tell me. Seriously. At the very least, we can sit and read magazines together. It sounds like you have no reason to panic/worry. 🙂 Which you’ve probably heard from a billion other people. But I know your ship will right itself, and you will keep on bob-bob-bobbin’ along.