I keep trying to find a eloquent way to start out his post. A way to describe my day that contains an element of poetry. However, those words escape me most entirely at the moment. So here’s the truth.
I got laid off from my job today.
I really thought that Tuesday’s trip and fall was going to be the shock of the week. It had helped me find new space inside of myself so thoroughly that I thought that was the shift I’ve been needing.
What’s particularly nutty is that when I got to work on Wednesday, I felt better about the place than I’d felt in years. I’ve spent so much of my employment there resisting it, fighting against is, not wanting to be there, that to have finally found some measure of peace about the place was a true joy.
And then, today. When my supervisor first starting explaining to me the fact that I was being let go, it didn’t register. It was the first time I was released from a primary job (I’ve lost freelance gigs, but that’s a whole other barrel of fish) and so I didn’t comprehend it.
There were more than a few tears (the wracking kind that made the men in the room want to run and hide) and it took me several minutes to bring my splintered propriety back under control.
I went back to my desk. I forwarded pending emails to other people. I erased the few personal files from my computer. I made sure that other members of my team had access to the site I managed. I packed three reusable grocery bags full of shoes, coffee cups and pens. I hugged people and I left.
Now here’s the good part. Once home and faced with an empty day, I started to feel happy. I might even go so far as to say that a hint of jubilant giddiness crept in. I told Twitter that I’d been let go and the love from friends and acquaintances rolled in. In the matter of three hours, I had four possibilities for freelance work on the table.
Before today, I assumed that when I left my job for good, it would be on my own terms. Instead, my hand was forced. Amazingly, it feels like nothing more than a giant gift. I’ve been saying that I was ready for the change. Well here it is.
(If you’re wondering why the photo of the day is a bag of potato chips, the truth is that I’m not an entirely perfect or virtuous human. When faced with this loss, I turned to the bag of potato chips that I had been saving for our upcoming vacation for a taste of edible comfort. Thank you Kettle Chips, for being there for me in my time of need.)