The writing was on the wall, but I was so busy that I didn’t notice until it was too late.

My boss and I had quite a conversation on our weekly meetup call. We both work remotely, so every Monday we’d have a half-hour talk about tackling the projects I’d been assigned. On this particular day in November, we never did finish our discussion regarding a certain writing assignment I’d been given. So first thing on Tuesday, he asked if I was free at some point to meet. Sure, how’s 11:30? I asked. He sent me a Google Meet invite and I accepted.

At the scheduled time, I logged on. There was my boss, of course, but another person I wasn’t expecting: the HR person. Right then, I knew my job was over. Just like that movie, “Up In The Air.”

Times were tough for the nonprofit I worked for, especially given the incoming administration. It was expected that our funding might face challenges, so contract workers began to take the place of salaried ones. When two of my former colleagues recently left for greener pastures, those positions were combined into one. Our staff was realigned, as they like to say, to better service the community we serve.

HR Person began the conversation saying I was a valued employee with a spotless record, but unfortunately my position was being eliminated so that a new one could be created. It was mentioned that I was “strongly encouraged” to apply for this position.

I said, “If you wanted me to have it, this conversation would be about offering me a new job, not getting rid of me.”

My boss added that he, too, wanted me to apply for the position, and I repeated myself. “You already know what I can do, so why should I have to prove it all over again?”

“Because the board is going to interview candidates for this position, and we have to be fair in this process,” said HR Person.

This was the last thing I expected or wanted, or rather, wanted to hear. I’d been through the wringer, with a raging forest fire filling up my town with smoke, threatening all of us in my tiny mountain town. I’d spent the past few days anxiously looking out the window, seeing the glow of the fire turn the sky an eerie orange. With constant messaging from our local authorities all hours of the day and night, I hardly slept.

And now, this.

The next day, my boss called again, this time to see if I was okay. He said, in so many words, that this was not his decision and he’d rather keep me on. We’d hired a new executive director, and that’s where the directive came from. I began to speak, but was drowned out by sirens in the background. I live in the center of my tiny town, and with the constant whirr of helicopters and wail of fire engines, plus the lack of sleep, I was at my breaking point. Words formed on my lips, but tears rained out of my eyes. I couldn’t stop.

“Take the rest of the week off. It’s on me,” my boss said.

“When’s my last day?” I asked. I needed to know.

“Not sure. We’re putting out the word next week, then with the interview process and such, I imagine it will be in the new year sometimes. Probably the first or second week of January.”

It gave me some time to find another position, almost two months. For that I was grateful. I’d planned a trip to Hawaii to see my son, who’s stationed there, over the Christmas/New Year holidays. Because of the time of the year, the trip was ridiculously expensive. My son faced deployment in January. He really wanted me to come. I hadn’t seen him in two years. I really wanted to go. But such a trip seemed extraneous now. I gave serious thought about cancelling. Suppose I didn’t find a job? What would I do for money?

In the end, I went, mainly because I truly needed to break away from all the angst I’d been suffering. There were no jobs to be had, but since it was the holiday season, no one was hiring anyway.

After I arrived at the Daniel K. Inouye International Airport, Son met me at the baggage carousel. Seeing him did a world of good. As we headed to my hotel, I explained what happened. He completely understood what I was facing. Ever the optimist, he gave his usual cheerful rationalization for anything that happens: it’ll be okay. Don’t worry.

“There’s nothing you can do about it now, anyway,” said Son as we drove through the streets of Honolulu. “Just enjoy Hawaii!”

It sounded so simplistic. I had no job lined up. Funds were tight, but I did pay for the whole trip back in September. All I had to do was pay for meals and a few extras. Son also treated his mother to dinner a few times, which helped.

I allowed my mind to clear while there. Hawaii is paradise. Once I drove out of Honolulu, everything about Oahu charmed me. Unimaginable beauty filled my heart, my hopes. I began to relax, thinking more about where I was than what lie ahead.

While there, an old boss contacted me. Would I be interested in a freelance job? His organization needed some work done, quickly, against an extremely tight deadline. I explained I was in Hawaii. Could you spare an hour to discuss? I agreed, wondering if I could really do what was expected of me in such a short time. It did sound like the break I’d been hoping for. Hey, maybe Hawaii is casting some magic in my direction! Old Boss sent me a bunch of things to read. I did my best to catch up on all of it before the hourlong call. I wasn’t expecting the entire executive staff to be on the meeting. That threw me. There was a promise of permanent employment if this worked out, plus a raise from my old position. Wow! I hung up, walking on air.

A short time later, I wandered around Waimea Valley, a beautiful nature preserve, thinking about how blessed I was. Seeing my son and spending real quality time with him. Having a potential new job with better pay. The opportunity to even come to Hawaii and enjoy a break from all the stress wreaking havoc in my life.

Alas, my days in paradise came to an end. After a slightly weepy goodbye with my son, a redeye flight back to Newark Liberty International awaited. Of course, sleep eluded me. It’s impossible to get comfortable when we’re all sardined into our seats. Thirteen hours later, a friend picked me up at the airport and I burst with all the great news. Once home, sleep became impossible. Not only was I wired, but worried about having to accomplish a big task in no time. After a few fitful hours of marginal rest, I set about writing something about a topic I knew nothing about. Handed a draft over to Old Boss. There were changes. We both expected that. Went back and made them. More changes.

I still had my job and had to report to it. I straddled working with the soon-to-be-ending job with the present assignment. On no sleep. I also had no food in the house, since I never had a chance to shop. Ate shredded wheat with half-and-half, which actually tasted pretty good, because that’s all I had. Old Boss kept asking me when I would be finished. Two more staff members of his organization chimed in with changes. I handed in what I had at 9:00 pm, exhausted and starved.

The next morning, Old Boss said I was taken off the assignment. Apparently my work didn’t cut it. If I’d been smarter instead of desperate, I should’ve turned down the assignment. It seemed my old boss talked me up a great deal and I failed. How was I supposed to do a great job on no sleep or food, writing about something about which I was only marginally familiar? His organization was fully versed. I didn’t have that advantage.

Exhausted, I broke down and sobbed full-throated. I blew it. No new job for me! Any peace I felt from my Hawaiian trip evaporated. I beat myself up all afternoon, continuing unabated throughout the remainder of the week. My sister tried to talk some sense into me. Said clearly this was an abuse of your talent and perhaps they were trying to get something out of me so they could take advantage of me. It also wasn’t fair that they expected me to meet with them while I was on vacation (the first one in two years, I might add) and read a whole host of information and expect to understand it. While Old Boss et al said they’d be happy to answer questions, I truly didn’t know what to ask. After the pressure of limited time, I kept on with my task, afraid to stop.

My boss mentioned offering me some contract work a week before my job was to end. Said it would cover February. I’d be earning less than I did at present, but not too much. I agreed to do it – better than unemployment. Then, the current administration stopped paying grant money that kept my former place of employment going. There went the contract work.

Time ran out on my old job, too. My last day was a week ago.

I’ve been looking since November for a new job with no success. I cannot go and work back in retail. It killed my knees and feet, and I’m still feeling the pain from pounding on cement floors. I don’t know what I’m going to do. Reading stories of people out of work for a year, sending in thousands of resumes only to be rejected makes me feel queasy inside. And tearful.

Job hunting is like dating. There’s going to be an awful lot of rejection ahead. Can’t give up, though. Must keep moving forward. Otherwise, I’m doomed to fail. Who wants that?