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REAL STORIES of the recession: Bellesouth

So this month I officially become a thirty-something-year-old loser and go back and move in to my mom’s house.

Instead of the single apartment life I’ve enjoyed for the greater of the past ten years, I’m packin’ up my stuff, donating yet another old Salvation Army set of furniture and moving in to cut expenses and get things back together.

The job prospects are waning. Right now I’m hearing it takes an average of 12 interviews before you finally get a job. Since I’ve been looking I’ve had three interviews.

It’s no wonder people all over the country are starting their own businesses. The life of working for some boss just for the benefits becomes a bit annoying when suddenly out of nowhere you’re called into a meeting with the HR Director and told you’re being laid off.

So for the past several months, I’ve had a few freelance gigs here and there. I write sponsored posts here on my blog to provide me with a bit of an extra income. I sell jewelry. I dogsit. I babysit. I do what I can to make ends meet, and I’m surprised it’s all been enough so far to keep the rent and utilities paid.

But no longer. I’m moving into smaller quarters. My four-poster bed will take up about half of my room. My pots and pans and dishes will be packed away for some unknown time in which I’ll yet again move out on my own.

It’s hard for me to imagine what it must be like for those displaced workers like myself who have other things to worry about. Children, mortgages, spouses, retirement funds. It’s such a hard life.

I still have an inkling of hope that this economy will get back up where it belongs.

But right now i’m not counting on the richest people to save me. I’m counting on myself. It’s the only person I can rely on at this point.

But in the grand scheme of things, while things may seem bleak when you’re looking into my life from the outside, things are actually going quite well. Mom and I will get along great as roommates. I will have more money to spend. I may actually be able to afford things like travel and extracurricular activities. And maybe – just maybe – I’ll be able to sleep all night without having some weird dream that involves everything falling apart.

The future is very much wide open for me. I have no idea where it is taking me. I am loving my tutoring job, but how long will that last? I am loving writing, but how much will that really earn me? I love making jewelry, but there are profitable times and then there are weeks when no one wants anything or I have no time to make anything.

One day at a time, I guess. I’m sure all of us in this boat are going through the same thing.

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