Summer Recap. Part Three: When a Door Closes

(Posted on Wordpress September 29th, 2014)

When I returned from Cape Cod, my employer informed me that our persistence had paid off and that my position would finally become what it should have been from the start: A permanent one with benefits that offered job security. We had to follow official protocol, of course, and open the position up to externals, but it was just going to be a formality. I told my boss that if someone walked in and managed to wow her enough, during their half hour together, that she thought they should have the job that I had been occupying for the last twenty months, then they surely deserved it.

I took a week off from sewing as returning to the city, after a week of waves, wine, lobster, hiking and sunshine, was already hard enough and I knew the process at work would become stressful. Not even a week after that, I had my first major SVT episode in years. Normally, when this happens, and my heart is fluttering at an alarming 195 beats per minute, I lie down on the floor, take a deep breath, bear down and it slows down. This time, as I lay down and then paced frantically, in one of our conference rooms, I just couldn't get my heart rate down. The ambulance came and I was hauled off to the ER, where it took another three hours to slow my heart down, with the help of a beta blocker.

Many things can cause this for me and this time it was a little bit due to my new dosage of thyroid meds, for sure, but it was mostly due to stress. I wondered about this, while I dozed off on a gurney, in the corridor of Hôpital Hotel-Dieu. The ad campaign for the ss15 collection had already been shot, I'd just come back from nine days of vacation and had taken it relatively easy after this, I was on time with regards to everything else that had to be done for my clothing line and the kids were doing well. Sure, I was a little behind on launching the second business and writing gigs had completely dried up over the summer and I was stressed about securing my job, but that was in the bag. Everyone at work was sure of it and I just had to patiently wait because, before I knew it, I would have dental insurance for the kids and I, would be off to Tennessee for a five-day trip, in October, I would have six days off, paid, during the holidays, chair massages, $500 a year toward a gym membership and I would finally feel like I belonged where I was, 100%, and not with one foot aimed at the door, as a contractor.

Sadly, this episode occurred right before Fashion Week, which I had been looking forward to covering for this blog, and before my 60km Walk to End Women's Cancers. I lay on the couch or in my bed, winded at the mere thought of getting up to do anything. I was told it was normal, given what my heart had just gone through. I missed every fashion show and walked only 7 km over two days, basically meeting my mom a little bit before the finish line and crossing it with her, Saturday and Sunday.

I'm wondering now, based on the reaction I had when I was told the job would actually be going to someone else, if all of that was more about having to stay where I was than having to start over. I had made so many friends and the environment was such a pleasant one but, really, I was there so I could pay the bills and nothing more. Yes, the company could have been my ticket to relocating to Germany or Sweden in a couple of years but it wasn't guaranteed and that would have meant having to spend time studying in a field that isn't my preferred one. When it came down to it, I worked in a windowless space, performing uninspiring duties for a corporation that saw me a contractor and a number. When I found out I had to go, my shoulders dropped an inch and, try as I might (and I really did try!), I have not been able to cry about it. Two nights ago, I cried at the end of the Doctor Who episode, "Planet of the Ood" and then joked with daughter about how that could make me cry but the loss of my job still couldn't.

I took this from someone else's window, at work.

Yes, I always land on my feet, and this will be a distant memory soon enough, and I will miss the people I worked with but, in all honesty, this was the kick in the ass that I needed to move forward. The job market is better than I've ever seen it and, out of the fifty jobs I've applied for, I only feel apprehensive about a fifth of them. The most amazing thing is that, the one place I would have left my job for, had it been offered to me, called me, on Thursday. Whether or not I end up getting the amazing job in question, knowing that they dug my resumé and portfolio enough to call me and interview me over the phone, sent a gust of wind right into my sails. I will do my utmost to find work in fashion and/or media right now but, whatever happens, that's always where I'm headed and my portfolio will only get better.

My last day was Friday and I'm looking forward to a week of job hunting, sewing, re-organizing, weight-lifting and, of course, fashion shows. It's time to bump this blog to the next level and start covering all the events I had been writing about for others but doing so in the way that I choose to. I look forward to the next chapter in my professional life and to all of the writing that this whole situation will yield.

I took this after work on one of my last days. I bid the downtown rush hour madness farewell, for now.

Next up: Amazing thrift store finds, a handful of style guides, fashion and art show coverage and a sneak look at Madelaine Jakob's SS15 ad campaign.

Posted in: downtown montreal,getting laid off,heart,hospital,montreal,palpitations,svt