You know how you keep hearing that the economy is bad and all these people are losing their jobs? I heard that too, but I didn’t know anyone who had actually lost a job. Lost a job – like it’s the remote or a pen.
In my first post, I said I was a writer without a writing job. Well, I was “downsized” with seven other people two weeks before Christmas. I’ve never lost a job in my life – never fired or asked to leave or downsized. I was part-time working from home, but that paycheck meant a lot to my family. It meant I could stay home with my kids. It meant we could maintain our lavish lifestyle – eating dinner on a regular basis and staying warm during the winter months. And the winter months are cold here in Nebraska.
I’m not going to be one of those douche bags who trashes their former employer. I’m not going to burn any bridges. . . and also my severance goes until March and I don’t want to jeopardize that. By the way, I’m glad the use of “douche bag” has made a resurgence. I remember that was the big put down in junior high and it’s nice to know that we’ve all devolved back to that level of maturity.
I never thought I’d be one of those people who gets depressed after losing a job, but I was. If I didn’t have a family who needed me, I probably wouldn’t have taken it so hard. Funny how kids change your outlook on life. I wasn’t fired, but the outcome was the same. You wonder why they chose you, if you had inadvertently offended some higher-up, or made some minor mistake that was actually a huge mistake that no one ever told you about. And there’s always that co-worker who does nothing but complain and talk about how they’re going to quit and work somewhere better who deserves to lose their job more than you, so that just makes it ten times worse.
You take it personally, not realizing that they’re just looking at numbers, not necessarily names. I felt like a failure. I took it personally. How can you not? You’re like a piece of equipment some company didn’t need anymore, like a dot matrix printer. They try to make you feel like you’re the one person they’ve been looking for to revolutionize the company when you start and it boosts your ego a little bit. Once you’re nice and comfortable and your cynicism has subsided a bit, it happens. Just like that, you get the boot. You’re ostracized. You get escorted out of the building and your belongings are boxed up and mailed to you. It’s not like I got drunk at Thanksgiving and made some rude remarks about my brother’s wife or danced around with my skirt over my head singing show tunes. (I don’t actually wear a lot of skirts, by the way.)
I was angry. They did it right before Christmas. I was sad. They don’t want me anymore. But I also felt a little relieved. I didn’t really like the job, I was just going through the motions to get that paycheck. And, as stupid as it sounds, it was like I lost a little part of me. One tiny piece of me that was still mine – not something that necessarily defines me, but something that was just mine that I didn’t have to share – no one wanted a bite of it or to hang around my legs screaming for its attention.
Still, I was free to pursue other career paths. But the problem is, what I had going was kind of an anomaly. I had tried to resign about three years ago, but they offered to set me up from home and continue working part-time (because I could advertise the hell out of insurance, people). There aren’t jobs out there on Monster like that. I couldn’t give up my children – if I went back to work full-time, the majority of my paycheck would go to daycare. What’s the point? Pay someone else to screw up my kids? No way. That’s my job. I deserve at least that. If I worked part-time nights and weekend, I’d never see my husband, and I kinda like him. Sometimes he buys me a fancy coffee.
So now what? So now it’s time to find a new source of income. I put myself on some freelance writing sites, but you know what? There are a gazillion people out there who want to write too. And get paid for it.
Oh, and I buy a lottery ticket every week. And sell crap from around my house on ebay.
But now, almost three months later, there is some light at the end of the tunnel. I was recently contacted to help edit and write for a site whose business is on the East coast. I’m almost on contract – haven’t signed it just yet, still negotiating terms and what not. Not like a hired hit-man contract or anything, there isn’t a hit out on the website’s life, but a contract that says I can fix their words and in return they will pay me.
There’s another idea I’ve been kicking around, too. Still have a lot of details to work out for that, but I’ll keep you posted. I know you’re dying to hear all about it. And no, it’s not a ponzi scheme. I don’t think. (Note to self: Google it to make sure.)
I’m proud to say that my cynicism is also creeping back, little by little. I actually got pretty upset after losing my job, and that’s not like me. People say cynicism is a bad thing, but I disagree; I think it’s healthy in small doses. It means I know there’s a possibility for failure. I’m not completely devastated when something doesn’t work the way I think it should. My spirit isn’t crushed because I know the world doesn’t owe me anything. It’s all up to me and I can prepare for failure and still enjoy success. Half full? No, my glass is empty and it’s got a nice big crack in it. But I have duct tape and a dish towel. So suck it world, Mama’s (almost) back.
