I'm fine.
No ... honest, I really am.
I mean - just think of how many folks are losing their homes during this economic downturn. Think of the people who are worried ... significantly worried ... about making rent this month. Or wondering how they'll afford their next gas or water bill.
I'm just unemployed is all.
It's just ... I don't get to play here anymore.
And that's what the loss is - it's not the job. It's the people. It's Paul D promising me he'll make up some "believable lie" as to me being a good employee if I use him as a reference. It's Amy R catching me as she's walking out and saying "see you" and me saying "yeah maybe" and her face dropping as she says "No friggen way". It's Bruce J saying "I saw it the work order but I still can't believe it". It's Christine M telling me that I'd better be back in the SF office when she returns from sabbatical in 6 weeks. It's Dylan M who just now has caught me quietly welling up at my desk while I type this. It's even Allister L who wrote to me last night to see if I'd be his commute buddy and calling me in disbelief this morning after he'd read my response.
And it's Tim. Spencer. David. Ernie. Jason. Scott. Andy. Jenifer. Dustin. Steve. Deborah. Jennifer. Jason (no, not that one - a different one). It's Lance's biceps and knowing that joke means nothing anymore.
I'm officially a weeping mass.
So yes, I will be alright - but for right now, I intend to lose it just a little bit.
********************
"So I turn myself to face me, but I've never caught a glimpse of how the others must see the faker ... I'm much too fast to take that test."
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Wanna rant?
Dad has, in fact, gone mad. It's true. Danny Evans, the genius that is Dad Gone Mad, has once again taken the pulse of his readership and decided it was time for a general ranting.
Danny's post on July 28th, which I may have successfully linked above, is a general rant of things he just needed to get off his chest. It's a good post, with some significant emotion behind it.
His readers, however ... I mean WOW. The comments, all 99 of them (thus far), make for some GREAT reading. There are a lot of pissed off people in that one little space. (*ahem* I'm the 99th post, btw.)
So - I think I have a total readership of like three people. But I'll be willing to bet, if you read through those comments, they'll inspire you to use the freedom of a fake name and just post away.
It's Therapy Tuesday ... get your rant on.
Danny's post on July 28th, which I may have successfully linked above, is a general rant of things he just needed to get off his chest. It's a good post, with some significant emotion behind it.
His readers, however ... I mean WOW. The comments, all 99 of them (thus far), make for some GREAT reading. There are a lot of pissed off people in that one little space. (*ahem* I'm the 99th post, btw.)
So - I think I have a total readership of like three people. But I'll be willing to bet, if you read through those comments, they'll inspire you to use the freedom of a fake name and just post away.
It's Therapy Tuesday ... get your rant on.
Monday, July 28, 2008
Baggage I'm not checking
This will likely be the last blog I write on my laptop. Well, on THIS laptop, at least. As of July 31st, unless something wonderfully incredible (or incredibly wonderful) occurs between now and 5pm on Thursday, I will join the ranks of unemployed. As such, I will need to return this laptop. Soooo, I’ve been spending my time doing my very best to move files, clean up cookies, transfer bookmarks, backup music and all kinds of other computer-related things that I’m incredibly unqualified to do.
In doing all this mandatory organization, I’ve come across more than 6 years of material from my work – and personal – life. I have, quite literally, every expense report I’ve submitted for reimbursement. I’ve been to Scottsdale, Chicago, Washington, DC, Los Angeles, Portland, Sun Valley, Reno, Las Vegas, Phoenix, Amelia Island, and Orlando (to name just a few locations). I’ve met and worked alongside some incredible people … and some real jerks, too – don’t get me wrong. It’s just – the great folks outshine the morons, which is nice.
If I look it up, I can pinpoint the exact day (and time) I met Tim, and Jen, and Scott. I can trace the conversation where it was first suggested that I be part of the Gulf Coast response team for my company. I have the email conversation of having a chat with one of “my guys” in San Diego, while I was in the attic in my sister’s home in Big Sky, MT in April years back - I was complaining of the heavy snowfall and the wild moose. I have the ability to pull up the email I wrote when I learned of my Great Uncle’s death – and my first Niece’s birth.
Now, even though this was a laptop issued to me by my employer, it also has quite a bit of my personal life (and personality) stored on it. My desktop design is very much NOT standard issue – it’s supposed to be the corporate logo or some damn thing, but I just … never could bring myself to do that. The screen saver also is supposed to be corporate-issue but again, uh – no. I have photos of family, friends, pets, food, and such. I have funny comic strips, jokey-stuff, and notes to myself on here.
I have an electronic journal – buried deep inside various folders and very obscurely named (to protect the innocent and the very incredibly guilty) – that I’ve been writing over these past 6 years. And I have sub-chapters from that journal, from situations that caused such deep emotion that I felt that they required their own pages. And because I have grown up just a bit since I started this journal, I know better than to review what I’ve written. I'd be too tempted to re-write the past - literally. But I do recognize the validity of what I wrote - and what I felt. And so, it will travel with me to my new laptop, and I'll continue the "story", such as it is.
We don’t get to choose our baggage. We only get to choose what we DO with it.
In doing all this mandatory organization, I’ve come across more than 6 years of material from my work – and personal – life. I have, quite literally, every expense report I’ve submitted for reimbursement. I’ve been to Scottsdale, Chicago, Washington, DC, Los Angeles, Portland, Sun Valley, Reno, Las Vegas, Phoenix, Amelia Island, and Orlando (to name just a few locations). I’ve met and worked alongside some incredible people … and some real jerks, too – don’t get me wrong. It’s just – the great folks outshine the morons, which is nice.
If I look it up, I can pinpoint the exact day (and time) I met Tim, and Jen, and Scott. I can trace the conversation where it was first suggested that I be part of the Gulf Coast response team for my company. I have the email conversation of having a chat with one of “my guys” in San Diego, while I was in the attic in my sister’s home in Big Sky, MT in April years back - I was complaining of the heavy snowfall and the wild moose. I have the ability to pull up the email I wrote when I learned of my Great Uncle’s death – and my first Niece’s birth.
Now, even though this was a laptop issued to me by my employer, it also has quite a bit of my personal life (and personality) stored on it. My desktop design is very much NOT standard issue – it’s supposed to be the corporate logo or some damn thing, but I just … never could bring myself to do that. The screen saver also is supposed to be corporate-issue but again, uh – no. I have photos of family, friends, pets, food, and such. I have funny comic strips, jokey-stuff, and notes to myself on here.
I have an electronic journal – buried deep inside various folders and very obscurely named (to protect the innocent and the very incredibly guilty) – that I’ve been writing over these past 6 years. And I have sub-chapters from that journal, from situations that caused such deep emotion that I felt that they required their own pages. And because I have grown up just a bit since I started this journal, I know better than to review what I’ve written. I'd be too tempted to re-write the past - literally. But I do recognize the validity of what I wrote - and what I felt. And so, it will travel with me to my new laptop, and I'll continue the "story", such as it is.
We don’t get to choose our baggage. We only get to choose what we DO with it.
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