Nathan’s eyes were fixed intently on the laptop in front of him. The phone book was open. Next was a mountain of paper documenting his search for the future. Company names, recruiting agencies, websites covered the pages each holding their own hope for the next step. Frustration emanate from his face. To his right, the garbage held the tale of his career in its many incarnations, none of them feeling like they told the real tale of Nathan: his talent, his enthusiasm, his desire to contribute to a company’s success.
He was feeling the pressure of six weeks of being unemployed and nothing to show for it. He’d sent out twenty resumes each carefully crafted to meet the needs of the advertisement. No response; not even the honor of a rejection letter. After interviewing five recruitment firms none of them left him feeling that he was anything more than a number; a faceless transaction. What did it take to get noticed? Why wasn’t it working?
So far he had learned that he was over-qualified and under-educated for what firms were looking for. His education had come from experience. He had worked his way up on merit alone. People had told him to ‘dumb’ down his resume so he could get even the entry position. The idea was revolting. Getting paid less was acceptable but becoming dumber to fit the expectation wasn’t. Firms looking for experience but wanting to pay a junior salary were asking for too much sacrifice. Where was the respect in that?
As he worked on version twenty of a resume that could be crafted and redrafted to fit innumerable positions as long as he focused on his skill set the futility of the task pushed him over the top. He pounded on the keyboard like it was his worst enemy. The file froze. Smacking his hand to his forehead he sunk down into his chair realizing that he hadn’t saved his work. Thirty minutes of brilliant writing was lost.
In a fit of pure fury he flung the computer across the room, watched it take a chip out of the kitchen cabinet, then hit the floor with a thud. A spectator to his own self-destructive sport he knew he had just become eligible for the Darwin Award for winning ways to loose data in through the stupidest act possible. He stormed out of the room and headed upstairs.
Thirty minutes later Nathan’s car pulled into the local nightclub; one that he knew well but had not been to in years. Nestling up to the bar, he asked for a martini and then scanned the room. It felt strange to be here, out of place and in another time zone yet it was better than the silence at home. At least here there were people to talk to. Across the room a twenty-something woman matched his gaze. She was attractive. After all these years he wondered whether he still had the same social cache he used to, especially with women. Two hours later they crawled between the sheets at Nathan’s house as he recovered his freedom once more in that nano-second of ecstasy. Drunk and blissed out both sink back into the sheets.
As morning poked rays of welcome through the bedroom shutters Nathan opened his eyes slowly. His head hurt. How did he get home? What did he do last night? Pushing himself up on one elbow he looked to his left repelling backwards as he took in the mascara covered pillow case complete with a fake eyelash. She lay sleeping looking not quite as attractive as he remembered.
He slowly and quietly swung out of bed then tiptoed into the bathroom closing the door behind him. Sitting down on the toilet seat his head rested in his hands as he reflected on his latest insight. People aren’t always who they seem. Two hours later she left quietly, with a promise that there would be a call.
No sooner had he closed the door behind her than the phone rang. It was Claudia. ”Nathan, we need to talk." Nathan’s body stiffened knowing too well that this usually meant she vented and he listened. Sure enough. It was more like an announcement.
“Nathan, I can’t keep staying at my Mom’s. With the two kids and Shae in and out it is becoming too much. I need the house. Since this whole thing was your doing, you move. Find an apartment. It’ll mean an adjustment for Shae but she can move back and forth.”
Nathan wasn’t prepared for this. He was prepared for some blaming and some demands but not for this.
"Cut me some slack here Claudia. I am trying to get a job.” Anger hijacked any hope for a measured discussion. “And quite frankly I don’t care what your situation is. I want to see Trevor and Sami. I’m not interested in changing my life to make yours work. Shae can’t stay with me. I have to get a job. I have to get the money flowing again.”
"Nathan you aren’t making any sense. You want the two kids you don’t have and don’t want the one that wants to be with you. How does that make sense?” Claudia did her best to stay calm. She wanted a productive conversation and was well aware that for that to happen, she had to keep her cool.
“It’s not that. It’s just that I need time to find work.” Out of pure annoyance Nathan blew up. “Right now, nothing I do seems to work. They say they want qualifications. I’ve got them plus experience. Then they say I am over-qualified. You are a number; a nameless face in the pile of resumes. Who knows what they do with those resumes. File them? Someplace where the sun never sees them. You call them; they don’t call you.”
To Claudia, it was apparent that Nathan was making up excuses. If she had any empathy for him, it wasn’t available now. Especially not when she needed him to do something other than to ignore and resist the obvious course of action. Though Nathan noted the sarcasm he ignored it. That too was familiar. After sixteen years of marriage they knew how to push each others buttons all too well.
“Yeah ... but what? All I’ve ever done is marketing. What else can I do?” Claudia was weary of being the major problem solver. It was a never ending case of propping up spirits so hope could emerge. It didn’t, or if it did, it only surfaced in waves of optimism followed by troughs of pessimism. Most time was spent in the trough. Nathan's outlook on life sucked. She was fed up with it.
”I don’t know, but I do know that I need you out of the house. You have two weeks. That’s when I move back with the kids. We need the space. Until you’re out, you won’t be seeing Trevor and Sami. That should speed you up. Do what you need to do...Oh...and by the way....I need some money.”
The explosion reverberated around the neighborhood. “Are you out of your mind? You’re telling me I can’t see my kids AND you want money from me. Go to hell!” He slammed down the phone, grabbed the nearest object and fired it across the room. Crashing sounds did nothing to slow him down. Not until he stopped did he survey the damage. What he saw scared him. It was like watching himself in a movie of his own making. He didn’t like the person he saw leaking out of an otherwise nice guy. The idea that he could fly into such a rage and trash his own place held some dread. What else was he capable of?
Next Friday: Chapter 7: Secret Talents
Copyright and All Rights Reserved by Dawna Jones. Feedback to Twitter epdawna Thanks!
P.S. If you are ready to start coaching yourself I've added some observations intended for you to use as information only. I hope that they will provide insight into you experience with navigating uncertainty.
Self-Coach Observations:
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