Please Feed The Animals

The first time I went through the unemployment process was after 9/11. I was let go in the 13th round of layoffs at my agency (read Joshua Ferris’s book: “Then We Came To The End” and you’ll know exactly what it was like). But I consider myself one of the lucky ones. Before my team was escorted out of the building, I lined up a long term freelance gig. I wasn’t scared. I thought for sure I would come out unscathed.

The long-term gig was good. I was able to pay my bills and have some fun. But the small agency I worked for couldn’t keep itself together. Internal fighting brought it down and everyone ended up on the street, including the owners.

After that, I freelanced here and there, but the gaps between grew larger and larger. By August 2003, there still weren’t any ad jobs available. So I had to get another job. ANY job. I needed food money, but no one would hire me. Not even the corner video store. Finally it came to the only job I knew I could get: bicycle messenger.

I was one of four females on the streets of downtown Chicago and the only one who was 40. It was really hard and scary . . . so scary. I cheated death 3 times a day. But something cool happened. Not only did I get in shape, but I realized that instead of choosing a job that garnered no respect, I actually gained respect from my peers. I even had a total stranger approach me on my bike and tell me how brave I was.

I’m not saying you should go out and be a bike messenger (unless you love fear and confronting your mortality continually throughout the day). I’m saying do the best you can for yourself and you won’t be disappointed. Something wonderful will come out of it like the lotus that flourishes in the mud.

My messenger career ended when I got hit by a car and “only” broke my leg. Part of me is thankful because it took me out of that game relatively unharmed – a broken leg heals in a short period of time. Karma must have been paying attention because I picked up another long-term assignment a week after that happened and then got a full-time job until last year.

Now I’m going through it all over again, but this time I won’t be a messenger. I had health insurance then and I don’t have it now. I’m living from gig to gig with gaps in between. I’ve managed to stay afloat. I believe that I’ll get through this and that I will come out better, stronger and more creative.

Actually, I’m already better, stronger and definitely more creative. It’s as if the great muse has camped out on my shoulder to whisper sweet ideas into my head and has decided to settle in. With every project I work on, the client seems to love my first concept with minor changes. I’ve never tasted such continual success, except that there isn’t a constant flow of projects and I don’t always work for money.

Hope remains in my heart, though. Nature abhors a vacuum and an end will come to these dark days. Staying positive and counting my blessings help me through the tougher times. Looking at my future in small measure is less stressful than questioning the big picture. I stay on top of my responsibilities, so I won’t have any undue surprises later.

In other words, we do the best we can with what we’ve got. And I know one thing… when I look back I won’t be disappointed.

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