Month seven of unemployment looms. I've never before been in this position.

My perspective is being turned upside down by what everyone calls "The Economy". Until recently, I thought employment was a guaranteed product of having skills to sell and the willingness to seek out someone to sell them to.

The inability to replace my job has kicked me in a lot of tender places. Identity is tightly interwoven with being a breadwinner. "What do you do?" I am asked in new settings. My mouth opens, but no words come out. Three decades of providing great customer service suddenly feels meaningless.

I have no degree, and my current occupation is that of pinching pennies and searching for someone to hire me. I cook beans from the food pantry, beans that I probably donated back in June when my income was such that I could toss a few extra items in my cart for 'those in need'.

I hope for a break, that's my occupation right now. Try putting that on a business card.

The former husband believed that he could bring me to my knees by withholding money. His family scoffed at my refusal to be cowed, insisting that I would end up homeless. I snorted with contempt at their assessment.

"The women in my family are not weak." I said.

"You'll never be able to support a family on your own!" they tsked.

I laughed at them, glad for once that I was was not born rich like they were. I know how to stretch a dollar. I know how to work two jobs. I know how to support anyone who comes along.

Or so I thought.

After thirteen years of being sole support, the breadwinner can't seem to find a way to win any bread.

Last week seemed to bring a big break. Of the several hundred resumes I've sent out, one generated a call from an agency. The recruiter buzzed with a practiced enthusiasm that must have been exhausting to sustain. Still, she bubbled that my experience was excellent, but the resume itself needed to be, ahem, updated.

Fine with me. "You're the pro." I said. "You know what the employers want to see. Tell me.".

She outlined a position that she was filling that would be right up my alley. Salary, $1500 per year more than I was making when I was so unceremoniously fired. Whoo hoo!

"I won't have any open slots until next week, unless you want to come down right now", she continued. "Don't worry about getting dressed up, save that for meeting the employer. Can you be here in an hour?"

I cleaned up the resume according to her specifications, hit the send button, and jumped into the car. The office was twenty eight miles away. I considered the gasoline spent an investment. A job! In my field! Paying plenty!

Bernice was birdlike in her size-two wool blazer. Her trip through menopause had apparently been bolstered with plenty of visits to the tanning bed and stylist's chair.

"You're my ringer" she said enthusiastically. "You're exactly what they are looking for. Get out your best suit, this client is corporate environment all the way. Do some research on the company."

Best suit? Eeek. I had a couple of blazers, a black skirt, but suits never fit me right. . Still...to get a job like the one dangling before me, I'd have worn a tutu.

Sixteen trips to the fitting room later, I found one that did the trick. The jacket buttoned, but the sleeves were not too long! I tried the skirt and that fit too. The price, at 80% off, was under $30.

Size 14W, Petite.

Seven months of rice and beans and sitting in front of a computer searching the job boards has apparently added more than just grey hair.

I bought the suit, making a mental note to call the electric company and tell them I would be only paying half this month.

At home, I prepared pages of information about the company, along with job description and some clean copies of my resume. I typed up a list of questions to ask the interviewers, and placed all of this into a sectioned binder.

The interview went soooo well. The first interviewer spent an hour with me. She asked if I had had a chance to do any research, and I casually brought out my binder, turning to the section labeled "company information". "Why yes..." I said, and then asked a few questions about the points noted on the website. When she asked for a resume, I flipped to a different section and pulled a copy out of its sheet protector.

"Wow." She said. "That is the kind of preparation I like to see! Do you have time to meet with the Customer Service director?".

Did I have time??

She pulled her manager out of another meeting to join us. By the end of the second hour, we were all laughing together about the ups and downs of customer service.

My cell phone rang before I made it back to the apartment. Score!

"Hi..." Bernice said. "I just heard from Ann and Mike at the company". She said.

"Great!" I said. "What is the next step?"

"Unfortunately, they said that your skills were outstanding, but they are looking for a different kind of person. They want someone who is less quiet and subdued. They need someone upbeat."

My mind struggled with what she was saying. I had just left the office after shaking hands with two people who seemed to like me as much as I liked them. We chatted spontaneously. We laughed out loud. Subdued?

I felt a wave of disappointment so strong it felt like motion sickness.

"So...is that a "no"?" I asked, still not grasping the huge disparity between what I had just experienced and what was being said.

"It's a no this time. I'll keep your resume handy should another good one come in.".

"Win some, lose some" I said, attempting to sound detached. I politely hung up before wasting any more of AT&T's Daytime Minutes.

Never before have I been told that my skills were fine, but my personality was not. Is that why I'm still unemployed? I can learn new skills, but I don't think I can learn to be someone else.

Maybe I can re-attach the tags and return the suit. May as well pay the whole electric bill this month.