poplar road

This week has brought our tension to a breaking point. In the evenings, we've been watching weather reports, made hopeful by the forecasts for large accumulations. In the morning, our brief disappointment that the world has not disappeared in a wave of white is overtaken by anxiety about our jobs. Richard spent a day and a half curled in a ball of frustration on the couch after weeks of hard work resulted only in diatribes and betrayals. I spent the past several mornings on the phone, reassuring my employers that I understand their bottom-line motivations for considering layoffs and will continue to do what's best for the organization in the short time they'll likely give me to train my replacement while keeping the organization afloat.

Maybe they'll surprise us. Maybe loyalty and hard work are worth something to them after all. But stability is the thing, that increasingly unattainable factor that makes a less desirable job worth doing. I thought I had it with this job, but am resigning myself to the opposite, again. I've been trying to see it in a positive light—the universe forcibly nudging me to take charge, be a true businesswoman and step out of my safe, sensible administrative shoes into the high-heeled, high return but completely unstable role of contract designer and writer. But the thought that by summer I will once again be out of work, unsure of my next paycheque, does little to warm me to the idea of finally leaving the administrivia behind to do what I love. Sure, I'll still have some work, the writing and design I already do for this organization will continue, perhaps even grow. And I would only need to work part-time to make the same wage this job was paying before they cut back my hours. But is there work out there for me? The beauty of Poplar Road is also its drawback: we're on the far edge of nowhere. After a year - only a year and a half ago - of job-seeking and thinking I could do this very thing, only to have my hopes dashed and be so gratefully rescued by my current job, I know that my skills, tools, creativity and intelligence can only get me so far if there's nobody out there seeking the services I have to offer. Worth a try? Yes. But terrifying. And yet, I'm in limbo, because the powers that be haven't decided my fate. It was supposed to be yesterday, but no, not yet. So I'm watching the snowfall, dreading the start of my work day yet again, and waiting.