Free High Anxiety by Charlotte Hughes

they screwed me. It’s not easy starting over at fifty-five. Not only am I older, I’m overqualified for most jobs, and when potential employers take one look at the salary I was being paid, they back off.”
    “So how do you fill your time these days?” I asked.
    “Frankly, I’m bored out of my mind,” he said. “It wasn’t so bad in the beginning, because I was able to do a lot of things that needed doing around the house. I cleaned out the attic and the garage, got rid of a bunch of stuff. I painted several rooms and redid the landscaping in our yard. My wife loved it. But I’ve run out of projects. Nowadays, I mostly sit around the house and wait for the phone to ring.”
    “Do you ever get together with friends or colleagues?” I asked.
    “No. I guess I’m embarrassed.”
    “You must feel very isolated these days.”
    He shrugged. “Yeah.”
    I jotted down a few notes before speaking. “Robert, I’d like to play a little game,” I said. “It may sound or feel silly, but I think you could benefit from it.”
    He shrugged. “I suppose. It’s not like I have someplace I need to be.”
    I set my clipboard aside. “I want you to close your eyes and imagine what it would feel like if you were offered a good job. The perfect job,” I added.
    He gave me an odd look but closed his eyes. “I’m not feeling very imaginative today,” he confessed.
    “I’ll help you out. I want you to pretend that you’re sitting in the CEO’s office of a reputable company,” I added. “I want you to imagine what the office looks like and form a picture of the man who just hired you. Take your time.”
    Robert frowned. It was obvious he was struggling. Finally, after several minutes, he nodded.
    “Tell me what you see.”
    “Top-of-the-line office furnishings, and a guy in a nice suit. Custom tailored,” he added.
    “And you’re wearing your best suit, right?”
    “Yes.”
    “How are you sitting?”
    “What do you mean?”
    “You’re feeling good about getting the job. You’re at the top of your game, so to speak. How does someone in that position sit?”
    He looked thoughtful. Finally, he sat up straight in the chair. “Like this?” he asked.
    “Excellent,” I said. “Now I want you to keep your eyes closed and really concentrate on how that feels. Throw back your shoulders and see just how tall you can sit. Hitch your chin high.” He worked at it. “Come on, Robert, you can do better than that. Puff out your chest.” He finally achieved the pose I’d been looking for. “Tell me how it feels,” I said.
    “Different,” he said, “but nice.”
    “You’re feeling pretty proud and confident, aren’t you?”
    “Yes.”
    “Do you remember a time when you felt like that in the past?”
    “Yes.”
    “Great. I want you to concentrate solely on what that was like. If other thoughts come to mind, just nudge them aside.”
    I sat very still and watched the changes come over him. The lines on either side of his mouth and eyes relaxed. His breathing became deep and even. After almost ten minutes, I spoke.
    “I’m going to ask you to open your eyes, but I want you to remain sitting just as you are.”
    He looked dazed.
    “What are you thinking?” I asked.
    “I’m thinking maybe I came across poorly in some of my interviews. Maybe I appeared depressed or desperate.”
    “You’re right,” I said. “So from now on, I want you to get up early during the workweek, take a shower, and put on your best suit.”
    “Even if I have no place to go?” he asked.
    “Right. I also want you to make a list of friends or colleagues you can invite to lunch. You don’t have to go to expensive restaurants, but I’d like for you to go to lunch with someone at least three days a week. It’s called networking.
    “In the meantime, I want you to work at what you enjoy doing outside of being an executive. Can you think of anything?”
    “I’m pretty good at landscaping. That’s how I put myself through