It's sunny outside, I'm still in my PJs, and the paper sits unread. Today, I feel free. I'm free from my job. I'm free from wanting to do so much in an organization that felt crushing to my spirit on most days. I'm free from bitching about it. I'm free from hurting over it. And I'm free from trying to find a way to work it out.
Yesterday I woke up to nothing. A cloud hung overhead. Where was my wanting? Gone. Where was the email to check to jump back in the fire? Gone. Where was the need to scan the newspaper to find a story angle to pitch to the media? Gone. I had just joined the club of the newly laid off.
The day dragged. The house was cold and dark. The dishes piled, the refrigerator emptied, and my underwear, bills, and newspapers littered behind me.
Jeff came limping home with his back thrown out and his hands thrown up over another chunk of our savings gobbled up by the tumbling market. I found myself snapping out of it and started to rescue my home from falling into a state of neglect mirroring my spirit. By 730pm the house was back to normalcy and I was dressing myself and pushing myself out the door for Joc's birthday party while a part of me keep nagging, "I don't want to go." Fortunately, my love for Joc prevailed over wanting to stick my head in the sand. With my middle-aged rolls well camouflaged, I stepped into the party an hour late, saw some familiar faces, smiled and started to breathe. Joc hugged me and announced to a circle around her, "Kim was laid off yesterday!" as if it were cause for celebration. And apparently, it was.
I left at midnight with the croons of Ellis Paul swirling within me and the glow of love among friends transcending any kind of spirit crushing people management, job loss, or free falling dow.
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