Last year our world was turned upside down when my husband lost his job unexpectedly. It felt as if someone had stomped on the brakes and we weren’t wearing any seat belts. Not only did we lose our income, but our health care as well. To say that life was a challenge is an understatement. A trap door opened under our feet, and the rope to climb out was within our grasp, but too hard to reach.
The situation rendered negative and positive thoughts on being unemployed:
*My husband, who was born during the Jurassic period, could not compete with the Generation X applicants clamoring for the same job.
*We could no longer enjoy a good, Porterhouse steak. We were reduced to eating Spam and baked beans, and even that box of doggie treats on the shelf started to look pretty appetizing.
*Instead of spending eight hours at a job, my husband spent eight hours digging under couch cushions or the car floorboards in search of loose change to play the lottery. He couldn’t walk past a vending machine without checking the coin return for stray nickels and dimes.
*My guy required a two-hour nap in the middle of the day after consuming mass quantities of cheap food to counteract his boredom. He stood at the kitchen counter and squirted cheese from a can directly into his mouth, then washed it down with a handful of crackers. Don’t judge.
*To keep himself busy, my husband trimmed all of our hedges into Disney topiaries, painted the shed in camouflage and dug up our yard for a new sprinkler system, which left it looking like a groundhog transit system.
*My husband tackled the pantry that I had neglected by alphabetizing and color coding soup cans, boxed meals and cake mixes.
*We had time to enjoy a morning walk together. The hubs was trying to work off his beer belly and the man boobs that bounced as he jogged (no money for a sports bra).
*The rain gutters and tile grout in the shower had never been cleaner. Even the dust bunnies under the bed packed up their suitcases and left.
*We had time to explore every chapter of the Kama Sutra book. Clowns and unicorns notwithstanding.
*We got to sleep in as late as we wanted. Whether it was five hours or eight, we still woke looking like disoriented patients after shock therapy. We had yet to invent a drip line from the Keurig machine to our mouths upon waking.
Eventually my husband found a new job, and life returned to normal. Sack lunches, regular income and juicy Porterhouse steaks. It was slim pickings for us that year, but we were grateful for whatever we had. As a family we were broke, but wealthy in all the ways that counted most.
— Marcia Kester Doyle
Marcia Kester Doyle is the author of the humorous blog “Menopausal Mother,” where she muses on the good, the bad and the ugly side of menopausal mayhem. She is a contributor to the Huffington Post, staff writer for In The Powder Room and HumorOutcasts.com and a contributing writer for What the Flicka. Her work recently captured first place in VoiceBoks Top Hilarious Parent Bloggers 2014, and her first book will be released in the spring through Blue Lobster Publishing. Marcia’s work has appeared on Scary Mommy, Mamapedia, Bloggy Moms, Messy Mom’s Radio, The Woven Press, the Life Well Blogged series and was voted Top 25 in the Circle Of Mom’s Contest 2013. In 2014, she was named a Blogher Voice Of The Year.