Things change.

As if I haven’t had enough change this year.

The company I worked for (the promotion/ sponsorship) has gone down like the Titanic. Looking back, I saw signs of financial difficulty- none of us knew how bad it was. Unfortunately the business, wonderful concept as it is- just did not work. Perhaps it was mis-managed. Hard to say.

I clung on as long as I could afford to before jumping in to the icy waters of unemployment. (I’m aware of the shameless metaphor).
The job gave me 6 weeks of success and confidence not to mention experience in the Australian market and a wealth of contacts.

There must be a reason this happened. Maybe something was missing the entire time. By that I mean- I took on this role for many good reasons, one not-so-good one being that it was a band-aid over that hole in my career-soul.  The one I feel like I keep selling out.

My work-life kept me busy enough that I had an excuse to put away those paintbrushes and stop thinking about how little my family communicates with me now that I live in Australia.

The second I lost my job I felt like I lost my identity. Even though logically I know that what you do is not who you are. Alas, that is the conditioning I received in the American culture I was raised in.

So here I am. In a much better position than my arrival nearly 9 months ago. I’m slightly more comfortable leaning on Matt financially because I know I’ll find work again and we have give and take partnership. It shows me how far our relationship has come- aka I’m less of a control freak (and I’ve stopped making him keep a spreadsheet of exactly what I owe him).

One of my work-related contacts is a lovely person who happens to be a kick-ass immigration lawyer. Matt and I hired him and we three are defacto-visa-paperworking our faces-off. Another contact is a recruiter who is working hard to find me some temp work.

I’ve even skulked back to the catering company I did one gig with for, months ago, for some extra cash.

The journey is far from over. Our trip to Buffalo for Christmas is hanging over my head. I’m worried my mother will kidnap me and not let me leave once I hit US soil again. Seriously, she might hide my passport.

For now- Must. Remain. Positive.

Author: dawnrieniets

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