October 7th, 2009
Sometimes I wonder if I might just go crazy. Well crazier than I’ve been for most of my life, still in some quiet lucid moments I pause and wonder. I’ve been filling my days with cleaning, doing dishes, baking, organizing, making sure supper ready for 5 pm and cleaning up after horses and walking dogs. I think I’m doing all this to avoid reality.
What’s reality you may be asking? Almost 4 weeks ago to the day I was let go from my job of 16 years. Let go. Laid off. Fired. Axed. Your position no longer exists. We’re going in a different direction. It’s not a reflection of your work. It’s nothing personal. I’ve enjoyed working with you.
Uh, uh. What do you want me to do? Just leave? I was a kid when I started work here. What about all the unfinished projects sitting on my desk? You want me to just go. Now.
I’ve always been so cool and composed in difficult situations like this. HA! It was most certainly an act of God that I didn’t start convulsing into a sobbing mess right there in the office. That’s more my style really.
Since then I’ve been attempting to settle into a more domestic role. Much to my husbands utter amusement. Friday he asked me to stop baking things. I resisted the urge to argue when I realized my jeans (and his) were getting a bit tighter despite all the dog walking. Normally I might have felt insulted. In the past my baking skills have been anything but appealing. Let’s just say it IS possible to have a banana bread explode in the oven and leave it at that. Still, he was right the baking had to stop.
My challenge now as I wait for a new ceiling in my office/laundry room (more on that another time) is to figure out what I want to be when I grow up. Could I start a home-based business? How am I going to start all over again? I had 5 weeks vacation people! Can I even remember how to do a resume for myself? I moved from the big city to this little town we’re in now partly because of that job. Commuting is the Hulk to my Bruce Banner. Commuting out. That leaves my little town whose job prospects consist mainly of Nurse, University Professor or Farm Safety Consultant. Great, since I gag at bodily functions, get a headache in school and couldn’t possibly be taken seriously as a Farm Safety consultant if my life depended on it. This is going to be an interesting chapter. I wonder if it’s too late to become a puppeteer?