Unemployment was, without a doubt, the best thing to ever happen to me.  I thought this a few months after I discovered myself unemployed and I most certainly still think this now.  I’m not in denial about what happened. Every now and then, I do think back to last July; the deceits, the confusion and the overall craziness. But, when I think back to July 2009, I’m nothing but grateful for having being severed from the R. Allen Stanford newspaper company. For, I think unemployment was a necessary step in my journey to becoming a better person and professional.

For one thing, I’ve learnt how to moderate my passion for my work.  My moment back in July 2009 with the gang of three managers moved me to live as others had been advising; work to live- not live to work.  Being passionate about something is not an excuse to have it consume you. Being consumed by work didn’t make me a better employee and it certainly didn’t make me a better person. You need to work. You need to rest. You need to live.

Many years ago, children at a primary school I attended would do this chant whenever a game was interrupted by the bell signalling the end of lunch.  It was a chant meant to taunt the child/ren who had given much effort, but, hadn’t gotten a turn at whatever game we had been playing. Over and over again, the unfortunate child would hear something like: “Billy Button, work for nothing.” I quite feared being on the receiving end of that chant and always ensured that I took my turn at whatever game was being played before the bell was rung.

Late last year, I came across a copy of a 2008 special issue of the Stanford paper- the Independence magazine. And my first thought after browsing a few of its pages was a clear indication that the chant had not lost its power to awe and strike fear into me.  I was reminded of the time and effort I’d spent on working on content for this particular issue. My near obsession with providing varied content had resulted in an issue completely dominated by my pieces. I remember others, inside and outside the company, had high praises for the content of that year’s issue and marveled at how I’d gotten so much done. Now, I was thinking: was it worth it?

My existence as a working girl is severely dependent upon seeing tangible evidence that my time and efforts are not wasted. It is something very human… I think.  No one wants to wake up one day, years later, and think “now, what have I to show for my life?” And, I’m not asking for anything grand; I’m just asking not to be poor old Billy Button.

Relatives, friends and nodding acquaintances worry that I might once again find myself unemployed. But I do not fear unemployment.  I remember late last year, a particular employer attempted to sedate me by pointing to the current economic climate and letting me know that this was not the time to risk losing a job. I quickly let him know my thoughts on that one.

Working girls like me always, always, land on their feet. I am obnoxiously confident and free, really feeling my oats, and so can see that there is a thing worse than being unemployed- being un-gainfully employed....

Next Tuesday: Work- the Soap Opera.