It Was a Very Bad Year . . .

I'm going to come right out and say it: This has been a pretty bad year for me.

As I write this, I'm trying - unsuccessfully - to move on from what has been a year of one blow after another. In addition to a personal problem too private to explain here (if you know me personally, you probably know what I'm talking about), I've had to deal with a lot of disappointments in my life. Particulars:

I started the year working at a temporary job through an agency. It was supposed to last until May. It was cut short midway through January. What happened was that someone working for the company I was at was promoted from within and I became redundant.

I got hired for a permanent job in February. I started on a Monday morning . . . and got downsized that afternoon. I was hired to be a medical insurance case examiner, but the job wasn't ready to begin on the day I was scheduled to start. The work was being outsourced from another company. After three hours of trying me on other jobs in the office, they found me incompatible and let me go with the hope that they might be ready to bring me back for the job I was actually hired for in . . . four months. However, they also told me to keep looking for work elsewhere. It proved to be good advice; the deal to bring in medical insurance claims fell through, and they never did call me back.

That was the last "permanent" job I had. I then had another temporary job in March (which you may recall from that month's postings) and was out of work for five months after.

And what about that temporary job processing dental insurance claims? My mother, who helped get me that job, told me it could lead to a permanent job and that it was a great opportunity to get permanent work and make real money. I didn't believe a word of it. I was happy enough to work my temporary shift and go back to writing freelance articles for that local daily newspaper I was working with, once the job was done. When my assignment finally ended, I was told it was because they didn't need me anymore. It was a lie; they really didn't want me anymore. Apparently they took exception to my penchant for repeatedly getting up for a drink or going to the bathroom. It didn't matter to them that I actually got my work done. They decided I appeared too lax, and therefore I was. My mother gave me grief over that for weeks. I didn't care; at least I could return to my business articles.

As part of an obvious cosmic joke, the newspaper I was contributing to changed business editors at the same time my temporary insurance job bit the dust, and the new editor had his own agenda, one that included fewer freelancers. Plus, any articles assigned by his predecessor still in progress were to be scrapped, and so my in-the-works article on environmentally friendly hotels was scuttled. Even worse, an article I had just completed on global employee programs after four months of compiling information and conducting interviews was not to be published - and a public relations woman I had worked with on the article couldn't recommend another periodical for it because the company she represented had a lousy third quarter and was downplaying its own publicity efforts. So I lost my freelancing stint with this paper after just six months.

My English ladyfriend Therisa actually inspired me to give business writing a shot by virtue of her own example. She didn't know a twit about living statue art before the living statue performer she was selling souvenirs for in the summer of 2004 encouraged her to give it a try, and she has since turned it into a career that has gotten her some lucrative bookings and the ability to be self-employed even as she continues to pursue the dance career she came to New York from England for in the first place. I didn't know a twit a business writing before I started writing for this newspaper, and I thought giving something different a shot would send me into a new direction. After seeing what Therisa was able to do, I thought I could repeat history. It was all a mirage. The only history I ended up repeating was my own - a history of failure. I've only had one article printed - in a weekly community paper - since losing this freelancing stint, but it was so heavily edited that when it was published, the only thing that remained unchanged was my byline.

I've had friends telling me to look on the bright side, insisting that I built up a record that will open me to future opportunities. Yeah, well, Studebaker had a record of achievement that gave the company reason to look forward to the 1970s.

This all happened before Thanksgiving, so I'd already had enough reason to feel low when my father died a week after that holiday. As I said before, I never felt I was able to reach a reasonable rapprochement with my dad while he was still alive. While I know he was proud of me and my achievements, there are some issues that will never be resolved. For instance, I remember being a difficult child when I lived with him in the late seventies. I was twelve or thirteen then, and while that stage is difficult enough, it was even worse in the late seventies - it was a pretty bad period for everyone - and it wasn't very fun to feel caught in the middle between two divorced parents even when you're trying to figure out way too many things for yourself, by yourself. I know how I felt at the time; I'll never know how my father felt. I suppose it's a sign of maturity to be concerned with what your father might have felt as much as - if not more than - you are with your own feelings.

So, everything I thought I figured out, I now have to rethink.

As of now, I'm still between jobs with no turnaround in sight. Employment Web sites, like 911, are a joke. I'm also picking up the pieces of a broken personal life, some of which involve my father, some of which do not. Incidentally, attentive readers of this blog will notice that my annual tally of posts is under three hundred - the first time that's happened in a full calendar year since 2003. I don't know, maybe I feel so uninspired that I just don't want to blog as much these days.

Right now I'm just taking it easy, waiting for a burst of momentum or at least figuring out how to generate it.

Taking down my 2007 calendar will be a big step in that direction.