Saving Grace

Do you know where you're going to?
Do you like the things that life is showing you?
Where are you going to?
Do you know?
Do you get what you're hoping for?
When you look behind you there's no open door
What are you hoping for?
Do you know?

Sappy song, I know, I also know that I don’t know.  I don’t seem to know anything anymore, I just hope a lot.

I also like Tom Petty’s new song, “Saving Grace”

“And it’s hard to say
Who you are these days
But you run on anyway, don’t you baby?
You keep running for another place
To find that saving grace…”

And yes, the guitar riffs on the song have the sound of George Thorogood & The Destroyers, but the lyrics are pure Tom Petty; he’s all about searching, finding, and finding its wrong and searching some more.  OK, enough of my music review.

Most people would give their eye-teeth (whatever those are), or their right arm, for a chance to start over.  A financially subsidized chance to start over.  So why the hell am I crying, and fighting this?  Because it smacks of failure.

One of the more memorable things that my ex-husband said to me, when I was having a conniption over his unemployment, was “Dawn, you always keep going no matter what.”  Yeah, I can’t use the excuse that I just can’t do it anymore, because I always do keep doing it, even when I don’t want to.  Giving up and giving in just aren’t in my nature, although sometimes they seem like attractive alternatives – thus the drinking, it’s a way to drop out, if only for 12 hours or so.

I try to be ready for anything, I’m a big believer in the Boy Scout credo, “Always be prepared.”  There should be a sub-credo to that, “Always be prepared to be unprepared.”  What do you do when the thing you thought would never happen, happens?  What can you think about the unthinkable?  I never, ever, believed that I would remain unemployed this long.  I have never had trouble finding work, and yet, I am living the unthinkable, the unbelievable, at least as far as my universal view is concerned.  

So what do I do?  Sure, I cry, and drink too much, and worry, but then I suck it up and move on.  I’m meeting with my real estate agent on Monday, applying for jobs in both Wisconsin and Michigan, and hoping like hell that something, anywhere, works out.  I run on anyway (don’t I baby?).