I could be sewing right now, or reading. I could close my eyes and try to recreate the peaceful, almost blissful calm I felt at the closing of worship after my day-long conference in Eden Prairie. But right now my husband is trying to sleep, having announced that he isn't getting up tomorrow. I think he would like to stay in bed until we get some word of what's happening, a feeling I can understand.
His superiors have missed the hiring deadline for making a decision, so our insurance is in jeopardy. They have given him strangely positive signals, but still no word. We're starting to believe that this decision is sitting on the new school president's desk, perhaps along with some other hiring decisions, waiting -- for what we can't be sure. They might be thinking about the Governor's budget cuts to the state colleges and universities system -- maybe they have to absorb those cuts, which were announced after the full-time position was posted, and they aren't sure who they will hire. If anyone. Maybe something else is going on. Maybe the president is late returning from a vacation -- no one is talking. Maybe there's a good affirmative action candidate -- my husband, in spite of excessive qualifications, is still a white male.
Since the worrying about this started in a low-level way as soon as the job was posted, we have been on this treadmill since the beginning of the year. Of course, the tension didn't really descend until about 6 weeks ago. His interview was in the first week of April, a process they probably didn't finish before the 10th. For some reason he thought we'd have a decision by the end of this week. No one seemed to know whether it would happen before the 15th, and it was acknowledge that this might create a problem with insurance coverage. Friday came and went.
We are trying to spend the weekend pretending that nothing is amiss in our lives, but it's obviously difficult, and the strain is apparent. If only this could have been straightforward. It's difficult to understand what larger, positive or hopeful lesson can be gleaned from this. At various times I've had a good feeling about the outcome, but I can't know, and don't always. Like waiting for a boyfriend to call, this sort of thing doesn't bode well for the relationship. Left hanging. Maybe he still gets the job. But they leave themselves and their system no redemptive quality. He has worked long and hard for them for years. If this doesn't come to fruition now, it's a major disappointment, a major screwing. It's practically impossible to imagine how our lives could still be improved, in any near future, if this doesn't work out. He has staked everything on this job -- intangibles like faith in the system and sense of self, a feeling of some security. At this point I'm afraid that even if he gets it, his nerves will be shot indefinitely, because he's not a guy who bounces back. And if he feels he's lost almost everything, it then becomes possible that some major change has to take place --- jobs, locations, who knows. And then I may well be forced to give up everything I've worked for over the past two-and-a-half years as well, because my dreams don't pay the mortgage. That's not a selfless statement, but it's true.
So I pray. It's an action. I realize this isn't like waiting for biopsy results, not like waiting for a soldier to come home, not like waiting for the police to find someone who is missing, not like waiting for a loved one to get out of critical surgery. But it's enough.
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