Happy Days Again?

I have spent the last 3 days looking at abandoned buildings online.
I am especially fascinated by the architecture of Detroit during it's 1920's building boom.In general I am enchanted by everything from the 1920's and 30's; the movies, the clothing, the homes, interior design, the Purple Gang and I collect objects from the era.
It is sickening to me that most of the beautiful buildings of that era are left to fall apart in Detroit. I look at urban exploration videos and photographs with a longing to restore the apartments, hotels and businesses to their former glory.I know Detroit has MAJOR issues with the economy, drugs and overall corruption by it's officials. After living in Grosse Pointe Park for several years, I am surprised that all of the Pointes haven't defected from Wayne County to Macomb long ago.
The 1920's were a time of change for our country. We were leaving an agricultural era and moving into an industrial era and it was the big boom before the Great Depression.
The correlation to today's situation are more than a little uncomfortable. I am one of the 99%. I am under-educated but trying to correct that by getting my Bachelor's Degree in Gerontology. My prospects are so-so for employment even with a degree.
If I weren't living with my parents, I'd be homeless right now. I feel like one of the buildings in Detroit. Abandoned, a shell of my former self, and just waiting for the miracle that will restore me.
I'm doing my part in going to college. I am letting God do His part by letting Him guide me. I am giving myself over to whatever tasks are neeeded in my church and barring finding suitable employment, I will be volunteering in some fashion with the seniors that I love.I want to succeed like the CCC camps did in turning the country around and create a job for myself. I need to write so it must be something else God has a plan for. My typing is horrible so I am thinking on investing in voice command software for my computer. Then I can finish the 4-5 book I've already written in my head.

EVERYBODY SING!!!!

Happy days are here again
The skies above are clear again
Let us sing a song of cheer again
Happy days are here again
Altogether shout it now!
There's no one who can doubt it now
So let's tell the world about it now
Happy days are here again
Your cares and troubles are gone;
There'll be no more from now on
Happy days are here again
The skies above are clear again
So let us sing a song of happycheer again
Happy happy happy days are here again

All Apologies

It's interesting the way that people treat you when you're poor.
God forbid you wear nice clothes ( obviously you spent your money unwisely)
Heaven help you if you color your hair, polish your nails, wear makeup or attempt in any way to make yourself look as though you're not a pitiful spectre. After all, aren't you supposed to be pious and be thankful that you're even allowed to breathe the same air as everyone else?
But, I had these clothes, which I bought while working in an office and some of them were kindly given to me by a cousin that lost weight. I color my hair since it's hard enough trying to find a job without having gray hair that leads employers to think you're OLD. I buy $1-2 nail polish and do my own nails so that I'll look professional and polished. I buy all of my clothes and toiletries at discount stores. I can state for a fact that I haven't paid more than $20 for a shirt or blouse in the last 5 years.
I apologize that I haven't taken on the air of beggar, nor have I ripped my clothes and covered myself with ashes. If it makes you feel better, I have gone without heat, food and proper attire within the last 3 years. My car is 17 years old and barely runs.
I'm sorry that I'm trying to survive rather than just slinking off to die somewhere.

The Only Thing To Fear...........

My constant companion for at least 15 years has been fear.
My ex husband was always unemployed in the winter. I would try to juggle making sure my kids had warm clothes, we had staples saved in the pantry and I went to Focus Hope in the winter for food as well as The Goodfellow's for Christmas presents. I feared the cold weather every year and tried my best to prepare.
I felt horrible fear in trying to keep a home for my children. My lack of skills and degree has kept me in precarious jobs and poverty.
My house became a trap when the mortgage amount was more than I could handle and it fell into disrepair. The roof was bad and leaked, causing black mold to grow. I had spent nights in fear of the sound of rain and to this day, rainfall sends me into panic mode. One night, exhausted after a long day at work, my ceiling fan began to leak right onto my bed. I had no choice but to move over to the corner of my bed and place a large storage container next to me to catch the water as I cried myself to sleep.
I moved into an apartment that leaked both in the living room and the bedroom closet. The landlord fixed the living room but not the closet. I kept all of my clothes in storage totes to protect them. The basement also leaked so everything had to be put up off of the floor.
Snowfall was another fear. My tires were often quite bald and being in a district that had no busing, it was the parents responsibility to drive their kids to school, regardless of the weather. I also drove anywhere from 50 to 100 miles round trip to work daily, so having a 1994 car with over 100000 miles on it was always a source of fear.
Having never made more than $24,000 a year the entire time I worked after my divorce, money was always in short supply and keeping the utilities on and food in the house wasn't an easy task. My children and I often had to rely on food stamps to survive and St. Vincent DePaul to keep our heat on. Making certain there is enough to pay the rent or mortgage has been yet another source of fear.
Now, I find myself, again unemployed. I am trying to find anything to do. I apply for jobs daily. If it weren't for my parents, I would be homeless right now and probably at a mission somewhere.
Fear has made me determined to get a degree, but as there is no guarantee of finding a job, I contend with a near obsession on living as cheaply as humanly possible. I fantasize about having a small cabin and living nearly as a survivalist in order to keep myself from being displaced. I entertain thoughts of growing my own food, canning,eating only the bare essentials to survive. I have lived several years without having lights on except when necessary, making due with eggs and potatoes for daily meals to save money,and keeping the heat on 66 and wearing sweaters and slippers or even a coat in the house.
Being poor has made a game of seeing how much fear I can tolerate. I guess I can tolerate quite a bit. It has become part of me now.

Nightmare

When I was married in 1986, I had visions of a long marriage, children, working to have a nice home, maybe a cottage up north, children's weddings, grandchildren and large family dinners around a family table for Christmas.
I see many of my high school friends enjoying this same dream. They've had divorce, death, tragedy and sadness in their lives too, no doubt.
I've lived the last 15 years like a zombie; I sailed through the last 4 years with my ex trying to hang on to a corpse of a marriage because I didn't know what else to do. When it was mutually decided that the ex should leave, I put my energies into working and going to school. My dream then shifted to getting an education and then fixing my home, getting the kids through school and then college. I lost a job, found a new one and continued in college. Then my house became toxic with black mold. I didn't make enough money to fix the roof, and several homes in my neighborhood had black mold, so the spores found their way into my home. Because of the economy, my commissions- based income went south. The house was the next dream to die. It wasn't the nicest place but it was mine. The house was foreclosed on.
The program I finished in college lead to low paying part time jobs. Another dream died.
I moved to a new flat that was nicer and larger than my house. Then after a year, the job was gone. This dream too was short lived due to poverty. I went to college for nursing but my GPA was only 3.6 and not 4.0 so I didn't make the cut for clinical's. Dead dream.
My daughter moved to Colorado to try and escape Michigan's horror.
I was offered a position working in senior assisted living and then moved nearly 50 miles away to avoid the drive and to be available 24 hours a day to the job. I had to leave my son behind to finish high school, which was heart wrenching.
I have lost the job and another dream dies.
I am moving 160 miles north to live with my parents, work part time and get my bachelors degree in Gerontology. I am a dreamer. I pray that this dream will not turn into yet another nightmare.
The idea of a Holiday dinner spent with family seems like an unattainable fantasy. Thoughts of being an old woman living alone in poverty seem like the future to me now. Any nightmare I've had pales in comparison and my waking hours are far more terrifying than any dream. Will everything I dream end in death?

It's official; I've lost my job.
It actually comes as a relief. With time comes perspective. There were signs from the beginning that this was not the place for me. Without details, suffice to say that the management style of intimidation is not one I have ever found to work efficiently.I am the type of employee that will give 100% for someone that appreciates me and gives me positive encouragement.
Ever the optimist, I am moving to live with my parents so that I can finish getting my degree in Gerontology.I can work part time while in college and then I hope start working in the career that fulfills me. My parents are very supportive and I thank God for them.
My blog will now take a new turn. I will be writing a lot more about my observations of nature, God and family. I will most likely never return to the city life.

Once more with feeling

Things change rapidly. My job is not secure, I am reconsidering my career choice entirely. I do love and adore seniors but I think that I need to work elsewhere.
I have also had to confront some negative personality traits within myself.
I am a brutally honest person. I am no good at game playing and workplace pissing contests. I also can't stomach BS .I also have the tendency to say what I'm thinking, which gets me into trouble. I am working on me during this time of strife. There are no second chances for me here, so sadly, it's time to move on I guess. I have to get past my stinking thinking, wherein my mind tells me I am a horrible loser. I guess it's a learning curve for me. I have only been in the workforce for 10 years this year. I have had a delayed adulthood from my time as a housewife and years of being told how stupid and lazy I was has made me sensitive to criticism. I am getting better and better with this and all I can do is pray that Gd has a plan for me. I may have contributed to the unfavorable outcome with this job but I also realize that I am not the ONLY problematic person in this situation. Is there such thing as a job for an altruistic person that loves senior citizens?

A Person Divided

I have been lots of things in my relatively short lifetime.
I was a talented singer and had the beginnings of an ability in acting. My studies were okay. If I liked a subject like English or Biology, I usually had A's. I loathed math and subsequently scored poorly.
At age 19, I fell in love and set about to juggle being a wife and singer.
I was married at 21 to another musician. His musical endeavors did not include me, which was fine when the first baby came along at age 25. I became Super Mom and Wife. I baked bread, cleaned, used cloth diapers and made sure a home cooked dinner was on the table nearly every night.
Baby number 2 came along 2 1/2 years later and then a devastating stroke nearly took me out in 1994. Three years of recovery and once again, I had to recreate myself again. My marriage showed signs of crumbling and I turned to God and the church. I strove to use my voice in the church and found that it was not unlike every other industry with the back-stabbing and insincerity. The divorce happened and I had to become Super Single Mom; bring home the bacon, fry it up in the pan, keep the kids from becoming delinquent. There was no time for singing, acting or writing ( a passion I had left over from middle school). All of my pursuits were directed to making a living. My love of biology and anatomy led me to becoming a clinical medical assistant. In between I've had many stops and starts in attempts to write. I have half of a book written ans at least 3 more in my head. Per usual, my venture is undone by trying to make a living.
I am currently trying to find balance in my life. I love nature although I have seen very little of it from the confines of my job and condo. I draw inspiration from my surroundings. The problem is that I have no outlet. I would love to sing again, but I play no instrument, so I must rely on musicians. In this economy, they no longer work for food or for "arts sake".
I am venturing back into the realm of writing but I am overwhelmed with a dozen other chores to be completed, the need to finally get my Bachelor's Degree.
I do know this: the component that makes me who I am is driven by my artistic nature. The longer I ignore that part of me, the less I am able to be efficient in my career or anything else.