I lost my job unexpectedly in October.  I was beyond shocked and stunned and in utter disbelief at how it all went down. I will not bore you with the whole saga here.  I wanted to climb into a hole.  I felt numb and betrayed and sick to the core. I had been at this particular job for seven years, was a well-loved employee, had just been given a raise in August…yadda yadda and then this! 

Shit…well ok…great…now what?  I felt the shame of it all so deeply, felt guilty for my kids and their health insurance, felt that I had let my parents down, and Vik, and in fact the whole damn world, plus God, Baby Jesus and all the spirit animals on the planet… Everyone knew and they were secretly judging me every time I left the house, which was practically never in those early days. 

The mornings were fresh hell every time I opened my eyes…that moment when you awake and are confused about who you are and where etc and you gaze through sleepy eyes at the room and you think – ah that’s right, I am Tori, this is Vik and this is my room and I have to get up in a moment so I can get ready for work!  DOH!  Oh yeah that’s right, you are now Loser Unemployed Asshole!  Remember? How could you forget? Remember those three new pairs of cute pom pom shoes Vik JUST bought you for work…well, you won’t be needing them now, will ya? 

Oh yes – I have such fond memories of the negative self-talk in the early morning light.  My Inner Negative Nelly was having a bloody field day, lashing and spitting at me, forcing my lids shut again.  No point in getting up is there?  But I did get up,  I forced myself.  Some weird British stoicism or something forced me up and into gym attire.  My oldest friend – Deb – also a Brit was determined to make the most of my new found freedom and literally forced me to join her on a daily basis at the gym.  I went to Boot Camp with Tom, Brazilian Booty with Fernanda (wow if only my booty would look like Fernanda's!), Spin with Marion, Fab Abs with Tracey etc etc.  There i would be in class, slightly behind Deb, battling through the agony.  To top it off, all I had to look at in the mirror (apart from Fernanda's ass), was me!  Nothing like a class in a mirrored room to make you face yourself...all of yourself, unemployed and jiggly bits and all.

In the background, my Vik was supportive through gritted teeth.  She had seen the whole work thing going down and had tried to warn me about it - to no avail.  In her own way, she was seething and yet felt my sadness and despair and carried it around with her in on a daily basis.  The air was heavy and charged with unsaid stuff.  I muddled through, spoke to lawyers, staved off my Dad who wanted to write letters to the British press and withdraw shares from the company etc etc I was at a loss of what to do next.  I went to an interview with a competitor, aced it!  They loved me and though they didn't have anything at the moment, they'd let me know... and then the question "So what happened, why did you leave your last company?"  I gave some bs answer ..staff changes...wanting a new challenge...bla bla bla.  I came to realize that perhaps this industry I was in was just so small and that I would always bump into ex co-workers wherever I went.  Was it time for something completely new?  Desperately challenging all my inner therapy residue and self-help books, I wondered if this was a case of one door closes, another opens etc etc.  I didn't really believe it but I thought I had to fake it till I made it.  All the cliche phrases were being pulled out of the bag! So...

I am doing it.  I changed it all up! I mean not just a little bit but a HUGE bit.  I think I am insane most days but the thing about me is that once I put my mind to something, that's it!

So, it's always been my lifelong dream to be a nurse.  I just never had the science background and then got sucked in to the production world and my other path. But it has always nagged at me through the years - that sense that I would far rather be doing something that actually helped people - something small but worthwhile, with the ultimate dream to be able to go to places that need medical help and to put myself to work - #goalsbaby!  I guess the ultimate goal is to be Florence Nightingale by the time I am 50 (ish)... Ugh - It's a long road of pre-recs and bed-pans and Chemistry and math and, and...all my former demons all in a row.  But I am doing it.  I am doing it!  I searched the house for a disgarded back-pack. Found one - an Ikea one no less - and so that has become my new handbag!  I go to classes, have sticky parking permits for the car, two campuses, scantrons, notebooks, ring binders, textbooks, new (very young) friends, some oldy friends who nod in solidarity to me as I fit my big ass into the tiny desk-seat combo...  There are labs and periodic tables, and chapter tests and prime factors. One day closer to Florence...one day at a time. 

Obviously these new opportunities, and new open doors will bring much blog-worthiness so standby folks - Florence is on a roll.