I Hope You Enjoy the Time Off

Yesterday, someone said something kind.  "I hope you can enjoy this time off."

He meant well. I know he did.

But the truth?

I can't.

Not yet.

When you're employed, it's easy to assume that if someone is laid off with severance, they've been given a chance to breathe. Maybe they can sleep in, catch up on projects around the house, take a vacation, finish writing their book (hint, hint!), fill the calendar with fun day trips and hiking adventures, or simply enjoy the summer. 

I used to think that too.

Now I'm living it.

Here's what it actually feels like.

It feels like waking up every morning with uncertainty sitting at the edge of the bed.

It feels like wondering how long it will take to find the next opportunity.

It feels like doing mental math about mortgage payments, insurance, and all the responsibilities that don't stop just because your job did.

People ask how I'm doing.

I smile.

"I'm exploring new opportunities."

"I'm talking to some interesting companies."

"I'm excited to see what's next."

And all of that is true.

What's also true is that my stomach is in knots.

I'm trying to project confidence while quietly managing fear.

It's a strange season. You have to market yourself while you're grieving the loss of something you worked incredibly hard to build. You have to network while rebuilding your confidence. You have to believe in yourself on days when that belief takes a little more effort.

I'm grateful to have some time to figure out what's next.

But time doesn't erase uncertainty. And it's not an infinite amount of time. There is a financial deadline. 

It simply gives uncertainty room to linger.

So if you know someone who's between jobs, don't assume they're on vacation.

Check in.

Invite them to coffee.

Make an introduction.

Send them a text. 

Give them a call. 

Remind them they're more than their title.

Because this season isn't time off.

It's some of the hardest work I've ever done.

And tomorrow morning, I'll get up and do it again.