After 5 years in Corporate America (working for the same company and working my way up the food chain no less), I’ve been let go. I feel strangely calm and relieved. I didn’t really like my jobby job anyway. But I will admit that a wave of panic (How will I pay my rent? What am I going to do with the rest of my life? Does this make me less of a person professionally?) is starting to wash over me. I have some great distractions (hooray for working the DMB Caravan this weekend!) and great friends, so I’m really trying to hold it together and deal with this starting on Monday.
Immediately following my forced exodus, I walked home with two bags of my stuff- in heels. I haven’t walked home from work since the first summer I lived here and forgot my bus pass. 2 miles later, I was home. I didn’t exactly walk my million miles a minute pace either. It was really more of a stroll and I liked it. I called both of my parents (which admittedly, I was dreading) and got surprisingly good feedback. Mom said “Make Lemonade” and then hung up on me. Dad said “Congratulations! Eff that place- now you can actually live your life” and told me that he couldn’t support me financially, but that he was “sure I’d figure it out”. So at first I felt grand. That was a day ago. I think I might still be in shock. I wonder if they were in shock. Guess I’ll never know- let’s face it, I don’t really care.
Maybe I’ll post more with stunning regularity. Being without a soul sucking 67 hour+/week albatross can do that for you.
Hippie in a Sea of Hipsters 