Sam-in-Limbo part deux

I keep asking myself where the sequence of events that led me to this moment started. Was it the losing of my position several years ago? Was it the seven funerals I went to over a two-year span? Was it a horrible, horrible break-up? I just don't know when exactly the ground started to shake. But I do know that it's starting to stabilize, and my reminiscing is only for the benefit of not repeating the same humiliating process.

I had to attend a hearing of with the trustee (part of the bankruptcy process) on the 9th. No creditors showed (surprise, surprise). It was in the federal courthouse downtown, which I found to be incredibly beautiful on the inside. There's this atrium in the front-center that reminds me of something out of photos of world's fairs long past. I wish I'd had a camera with me. Going back to take some photos might be awkward to explain to the guys at the metal detector. My meeting was practically first thing in the morning. So walking through that atrium alone, inevitably, my head turned upward to the skylight and balcony-hallways above. What a nice way to start the day that would begin the real relief (and possibly healing) of the past several years. Now, I have to begin the work of repairing my credit and re-starting my adult life.

When I was young, this is not how imagined my life would turn out. I imagined myself traveling, and writing, and having fun. Doing good in the world. Instead, I've stagnated into a truly ridiculous rut. Fear does that, I guess. Here's the funny part. I'm not really feeling afraid much anymore. I think the whole bankruptcy process has taught me something important, something I wished I'd learned a long time ago: people aren't judging me, and if they are, it isn't harshly.

I've gone a long time since feeling like I wanted people to see me. It's coming back. Wow, to not be in perpetual hiding is refreshing. I don't even think I realized I was doing it until now. Weird.

So, my lawyer informed me that I have to finish my pre-discharge course (online, thank God), and expect everything to be finished within seventy-five days (sixty for the creditors to object, but a little extra for me to have my final result). So, seventy-five days from Aug. 9th, it'll be done with. And not a moment too soon. I'm trying to think of something to reward myself with. Hmmm...

Sam-in-Limbo

Before I try to justify my long absence with a list of things that have been plaguing me to no end, I'll just say that I'm sorry. I've really needed an outlet too, but it seems that stress has this way of shutting me down to the point where I'm paralyzed, just existing as it were. So, no blogging, much less writing of any kind. That's horrible.

Well, some things have happened. After my life-changing decision to pursue veganism, I made a huge discovery about myself. It's really not easy to give up cheese. I love cheese. I love the different kinds of cheese - blue cheese, feta, cheddar, Parmesan, mozzarella, heck, even some swiss (okay, maybe not swiss). And while I was able to avoid it for a long time (months), I caved in about a month ago, and let's just say that it hasn't officially stopped. So, instead of calling myself vegan, I say I avoid dairy and eggs, not to mention processed foods and sweeteners. The result of that avoidance is 28 pounds gone (though I've got a ways to go). But I better get back on the ball. There's a cruise in my future, and this ass just won't cut it.

Apparently, my current financial state is as much in limbo as I am. A couple months ago, I was told that my position was being eliminated. Ugh. Really? They couldn't just leave well enough alone? They had to mess me up again, and leave me scrambling to find another position that probably would force a pay cut, not to mention the loss of my third-shift differential. Like the other madness that Walmart has been forcing on associates and customers alike (restructuring and stream-lining selection and store layout - even associates can't find what they're looking for),

I found myself in a bit of a predicament. If I'd been told a month and a half earlier, like I was supposed to be, I would've found something on third shift available. But they didn't, and I was stuck with some lame-ass bakery job. (No offence bakers everywhere.) I discovered two things when I did this. Firstly, the bakery at the store is just barely that. Here's what I mean: the product is purchased from other companies, shipped frozen, and then laid out to rise and baked in these really big ovens. I was seriously disappointed. I thought I'd be learning about different breads and donuts and cakes. I thought I'd be mixing stuff from scratch. Not a rotten chance. I learned how to pop a box open and throw some rolls on a baking sheet. Yay! Whatever.

Secondly, I learned to stick it out in this ridiculous waiting game. Apparently, the accounting office was left in this horrible situation with not enough people (two to be exact), and not enough hours to do what we do (an eight hour shift, as opposed to two and a half). So, Sam made her triumphant reappearance. Technically, I'm still officially a bakery associate until my over-worked assistant manager can fit in the official interview and make me an official accounting associate. Officially. I wonder if I'll get a raise. Hmmm...

What will happen next? I don't know what the future holds for this young plucky girl with a tentative hold on sanity, but I'm sure that the universe has a few tricks up its sleeve, and all will resolve itself in due course. But since I don't know what my employment future was going to bring, I knew I had to make some serious decisions about my horrid (and by horrid, I mean catastrophic) personal finances. Which leads me to the morning I found myself at the office of my bankruptcy attorney.

I remember going to Mapquest for the directions, but even just looking at them on the page, I found myself groaning. Drive through questionable neighborhood? Check.

Arriving a hair early, I found a taped note on the door to ring the bell. Strangely unprofessional setting? Check.

My attorney answered the door, and led me through the building to his office. The building itself was questionable in age, and had obviously been a house in a previous life, much like other buildings lining the street it sat on. The carpet (circa 1967) reeked of mold and cigarettes and the walls were paper-thin, worrying me that maybe everyone in the world was going to hear my business loud and clear. Potentially deadly or deadly embarrassing situation? Check and check?

Don't get me wrong. I knew I was doing the right thing, but in my head, I kept thinking, "Oh my God, what the hell am I doing here?"

Happily, my attorney was reassuring, and professional, and completely non-judgmental (at least not to my face, which is good enough). So the ball is rolling. I have my hearing with my creditors on the ninth, and after that, I have to wait sixty days for objections and then I'm done. That's not to say there won't be problems. But I need something of a clean slate. A do-over.

So, as the relief of it all hasn't exactly arrived yet, I'm feeling that the in-between stage of everything in my life at the moment has made some room for creativity, the kind I haven't experienced in a long time. And so, the idea that I will move on and become the person I really want to be is on the horizon, in view even. I'm just not there yet. But at least there is a promise of it.

Horror Show

So, I have to admit that I hadn't been on a scale for a while. A long while. And there's a reason why. If I don't know what that unholiest of numbers is, then I don't have to deal with it. I didn't deal with it for a really long time.

And now I know.

It taunted me. I think I looked at my toes longer than I should have instead of grasping what it was the scale was telling me. Really? That much? That can't be right. But it is right. It is. And now I have to deal with it. Damn it!

I'm scrambling. The mother and I have decided on a weight loss challenge. She has more to lose, so giving her a few days head start didn't seem so bad. But now I'm scrambling. Good God! How did I let this happen? Ugh.

Well, that's done. Oh well. Guess all that planning will go to good use. Let's commence with the life-changing veganism. (Somewhere, a nutrition fairy just got her wings.)

The point of walking...

I was on my way to work last night when I saw a sight that I find amusing at the expense of someone else's pride (they just don't know it).

There was a guy, probably in his twenties, making his way down the sidewalk. His gait was horribly awkward (and not in a possibly-physically-disabled-but-not-quite-sure way), and he was wearing the ever-popular (though I can't think why) "wife beater". Yeah, I know I shouldn't use that appalling term, but I have a point. I'm calling that particular walk the "beater step". It's midway between a cool swagger and a drunken stagger.

Walking, like driving, or riding a bike, or flying, is a mode of transportation. It gets you from Point A to Point B - as simple as that. But it seems that it must be dressed up with some pseudo-dance move to somehow make this guy special, make him stand out. I'm guessing that he has to do this in place of a piece-of-junk car with flashy rims.

This isn't the first guy I've noticed doing this. Every once in a while, one will pop up. Makes me think that maybe there's some kind of conspiracy going on to confuse me in my more paranoid moments. But that's just more of my inner-crazy peeking around the corner.

Speaking of inner-crazy, I had a minor bout of insecurity at the job. Seems I don't think or move as fast as I used to. I know, I know. Get over it, Sam. You'll be a pro again soon - God-willing.

But I have to say, I feel really exposed right now because I'm just now remembering some things that got lost since leaving the store, things that I naturally did or followed the process of. It's a strange sort of vulnerability that I didn't think I'd experience by returning to the same store and the same job. When you start a new job at a place you've never work before, doing something you've never done before, you expect that. But because people know me, I keep thinking they are probably expecting all of this to just come back as if I'd never left. So, I kind of shuffle my feet and make awkward expressions, coming up with excuses that I don't really need. Everyone there is pretty patient and saying, "Don't worry. You're doing fine." Am I? Am I really?

This constant need for reassurance is annoying even to me. I can't wait until I'm back to "good" and not just "okay".

I need sleep.

Analyzing the specimen

I don't know why I find it mortifying, but I do. Peeing in a cup and handing over to another person is downright weird. And not the good kind of weird. It's the I-can't-wait-to-leave-the-room-and-try-to-forget-this-experience weird. Not quite traumatizing. Not quite part of the norm.

So, the proof that I'm not a junkie of any kind and don't partake of the occasional joint has reached the personnel office at the store. My sister said she's surprised they do a pee test there instead of the more accurate hair follicle pulling test (which probably costs too much for the low-price giant). The hotel my brother-in-law works at used to only use the hair test. After having a very high rate of positive returns, they decided to quit that. They couldn't find enough qualified people who weren't smoking weed. A compromise had to be reached. Now they just have crappy staff.

Today is the ever-dreaded (not really) orientation. Since I've already worked for this company before, and done the job that I will have, I thought that I might be able to forgo the ritualistic Wal-Mart propagandizing that an afternoon watching WMTV and doing computer modules subjects their staff (sorry, associates) to, but no such luck. So, as of 2:30 PM (central time), I will be a Wal-Mart associate again. As my friend Sadie would say, "Well, slap my ass and call me Sally." Yeah, I almost didn't think this day would arrive (and for a long time, didn't want it to), but I've reconciled myself to this. It's not a forever job. Just a for-now job. And that's okay.

I had a chance to watch Glee last night. Diggin' it. I figured keeping the momentum from the pilot going would be tough, but this crew seems up to the challenge with this episode. You can watch it below. Their performance at the assembly is hilarious!

Back to square one, or how Sam defeated her bruised ego.

So, I have to admit something...

I'm going back to work for Wal-Mart. (I can hear the gasps and tongue-clicking from here).

It came time to be brutally honest with myself about the occurrences of the last couple of years, and it wasn't pretty.

I started my business back in 2006, not because I had a passion for it, though I do like to travel (it was a business marketing wholesale travel packages), but because I was mad at the stupid store. I felt betrayed at the time, not that it was anything personal.

Okay, here's the breakdown:

In January 2001, I was a junior in college, and I started working at Wal-Mart for no other reason than to make some dough. Back then, I was working another part-time job in school-age child care (which I really liked), and was going to school full-time. Then I picked up the Wal-Mart job, a full-time position. I was very quickly burned out, tapped out financially, and decided to use this as an excuse to quit school instead of the store (which, looking back, was the biggest mistake I've made yet).

By November that year, I was a department manager, which was another horrid mistake. I became emotionally involved with this place. It was definitely a disillusioning experience.

Every time I tried to step down from the position, my very persuasive and charismatic store manager would talk me off the ledge. This happened at least twice. Finally, I acquired a full-time job at a bank as a teller, and as the schedules conflicted, I was released from being a department manager.

I continued on at the store as a sort of "odd job" girl, doing this and that, staying busy because I could cover certain things for other department managers when they didn't have time and because that store is fairly psychotic on a daily basis anyway.

After being at the bank for about a year and a half, I got into the cash office (or accounting dept.). Finally, finally, I was in a position I actually liked. Soon after, I quit the bank. I was in the office for over two years when they switched the whole program and a number of people were going to be moved out to the floor. I was devastated. If I didn't take a part-time position, I would have to go back to the floor or as a cashier or as a customer service manager. Ugh!

This little opportunity came along around the same time to run my own business from home. Looking back, I was looking for any excuse to quit that place, and I took it.

Look, I liked the product I sold (and can still sell if I choose). I thought there was a lot of opportunity there. But the truth was that the organization I was with focused nearly all of their attention on network marketing (getting people to start their own business) instead of retail marketing. Even the business to business marketing was annoying. Then that organization decided to drop that product altogether and go with something else (a very quick way for the founders - with thousands under them - to rake in millions - and we're talking a matter of days). It was an unethical situation.

I tried going it alone for a while, and I tried and I tried and I tried. It was so draining, and I didn't want to admit some horrible failure. But that's what it was. So here I am, all this time later with nothing to show for it.

I shredded my 720 credit score (God knows what it is now). I ruined my work history. I lost my car. My relationships have been strained to the breaking point. And it ended up being all for nothing.

So, here's where I got honest with myself:

I finally asked myself what it was I really wanted. Absolutely positively. In very certain terms.

What do I want? What do I want?

1. I want to travel. That's why I started that type of business. So, that's definitely on the list. I want to go everywhere (I'm imagining Tina Fey saying "I want to go to there".) Here I am saying, "Let's work on that". Paris, Dublin, Goa, Buenos Aires, not to mention a ton of other places. They're officially on the list.

2. I want to write. Ever since I was a little kid, I knew that's what I wanted to do. I've been incredibly inconsistent with it (and that I will definitely work on), but ultimately, I keep gravitating towards that. So, I'm structuring a novel. In the works, so check.

3. I want to find a way to be of service. I'm coming up with little ideas that will hopefully sprout into bigger ideas. My mom mentioned a few months ago that she was disappointed in herself that she didn't instill a sense of duty when it came to volunteering. When we were kids, she was going through a lot, and I think we still turned out relatively decent. I don't hold it against her. But I think that I will feel a lot more fulfilled when I'm making a contribution to society other than paying taxes, voting, and showing up for jury duty.

4. I want to take off the depression weight. At least thirty pounds of it. Yuck! How did I let this happen? Oh well. I can do it. I've always noticed that when I'm happy, I'm smaller. I'm guessing this has to do with a huge number of hormones that I don't know the names of, but they all probably have at least six syllables.

So, after an extensive job search that was both depressing and disappointing, I think I found the right job at the right time. And ironically, it's at Wal-Mart.

There was an opening in the accounting office at the store I used to work at. Apparently they are having a hard time finding people who don't lose large amounts of money.

As much as I dreaded the thought of going back, after the interview process and all the anxiety that comes with applying for a job I left because I thought I had something better, the people I used to work with are welcoming me back with open arms.

I know. It's Wal-Mart. There can't be a huge lesson learned from there, and in all honesty, I don't plan on staying forever. But I feel very lucky that this happened. Is there some kind of cosmic force at work. I'm not holding my breath, but I am sighing with a sort of relief.

At any rate, I'll have plenty of writing material.

So, I'm starting at square one. This is Sam starting over. Better I got through my mid-life crisis now. I feel like the rest of my life awaits. And instead of being overly depressed, I'm ready to get going, wholly optimistic, and, I think, in a frame of mind that is finally being honest with me.

I don't know if my story will be one of those inspiring pieces that will spread by word of mouth until I'm relatively famous for being a prodigal Wal-Mart worker (God forbid). But I do know that I feel like a ton of weight has been lifted from my shoulders.