How do I get over losing my job?
Last Friday, I went in to work just like any other Friday. I walked past a bullpen of bushy-tailed, recent graduates to my small, windowless office. I flicked on three different lamps to avoid the fluorescents. I pulled my laptop out of its bag, which was stuffed with papers, and I immediately got to work.
But about ten minutes into checking my emails, I was summoned by the boss. Now I have two bosses, one of them I adore and one of them I constantly disagree with. This was the disagreeable one.
“Melissa, can you come into my office?”
He had never asked me that before.
I walked in, still soaked in the possibility of a carefree Friday, and sat on his expensive leather chairs. Our HR administrator was there and that was when I knew.
“We’re letting you go,” my boss said calmly. “Know this isn’t an easy decision. But the market isn’t bouncing back like we’d thought. We don’t have a client scheduled until July. And we have to make some hard choices.”
I was polite and professional.
But the words kept swirling in my brain.
WE’RE LETTING YOU GO.
I packed my desk in a hurry. I left through a side door to avoid everyone. I got in my car and let it sink in.
I am jobless in a bad market. And what’s worse, I don’t know what I’m going to do.
I could go back to marketing. Go back to working for someone else. Go back to taking orders from someone just to make him happy.
But I have always loved to write. I started out in college as an English major because ever since I was 11, I wrote stories. But I changed majors to Communications to be more job friendly.
And now, I am jobless.
All I’ve ever done is float through jobs, some so-so and some downright awful, just to make a paycheck. I’ve never really been an engaged employee. I’ve never felt the school spirit of employer loyalty.
I just want to get stable pay and go to the doctor every once in a while.
My husband loves being a psychologist. He discusses his day with frustration, as everyone does, but underneath that is passion, devotion, and delight. He knows he is a good at what he does. And it is what he has always wanted to do.
All I’ve ever wanted to do is write. But I’ve kept myself from it because for one, I write fiction, and no one’s paying me six figures annually for a few short stories. And two, writing is so uncertain. As much as I dread the 9–5, I like the guarantee of a salary, health insurance, and retirement.
My daughter isn’t eating off of character development and plot twists!
I want this firing, or excuse me, this “letting go” to be a blessing in disguise. But I’m having a hard time with that right now.
