Sortof Ok

I basically got fired. I hated my job so it’s sortof ok. I have 2 months left until I’m actually unemployed. What should I do now?

Oh man, oh no. My first reaction? Take a long walk next to a large body of water while listening to Van Morrison’s “Moondance” album on repeat. It may not reveal any answers but it will probably make you feel better.

You may or may not know that I got “laid off” five years ago this summer. I put that in quotes because it was not a lay off where you get months of notice and time to prepare by interviewing for other jobs. I got a phone call two hours into a eight-hour bus ride back from New York City. I was working as a contract employee through a temp agency and my contract was set to expire in August, but in the last couple weeks of June, we (myself and the rest of the team) were told we were “so great” that they wanted to keep us on even longer. Job hunting sucks, so I clung that, though I didn’t even like this job. The people were cold, the work was boring, and the break room fridge was too small for the growing staff so there was never anywhere for me to put my lunch. After I hung up, I told my friend who was sitting a few seats away and laughed to myself, because honestly, how could I not? This is why I’m a nonfiction writer. The comedy writes itself.

I recently reread my journals from back then and the first thing I wrote was something along the lines of, “That’s it, I’m moving to New York in May!” Yeah, okay, kid. I could barely afford to hold myself together. I was looking for an easy escape. Most of all, I was too embarrassed to admit what happened to me. I had left a longtime job to take this one and I felt like a fool, as if everyone else secretly knew it wouldn’t work out. I had a lot of issues with pride and ego that I needed to work through, and I don’t think I would have if I hadn’t been put into this situation.

Since you hated your job, it seems as if you’re at a strange advantage. You definitely know what you don’t want, which is half of it. The other half is figuring out what you do like. Do you know what you like? It’s a simple question with complicated answers. I struggle with this myself. I like so many things that I have a hard time narrowing things down. For example, I like to write. Writing is great! Sure, that’s simple, but what exactly does that mean? News stories, feature stories, short stories, screenplays, actual plays, play on words, radio plays, poems, haikus, lyric essays, song lyrics, song parodies, parody accounts, satire, tire commercials, commercial fiction, ghostwriting, copywriting, copyediting — there’s a lot that falls under that umbrella, and the downpour of options is too much for one person to do it all.

This metaphor is getting a little washed up (okay, okay, I’m done), but knowing what you like will steer you on a clearer path than simply avoiding what you hate. You’re at the starting over point, so you might as well go hard as hell after what you really want. Can you take the first steps toward that? Can you do one thing today that will put you one day closer to realizing what you want?

So, the practical things:

1. Will you still have health insurance for those last two months? Make appointments to see all your doctors. Maybe do that right after you get back from that walk. Dentist and optometrist too, even if you normally avoid or put them off, and all the other specialists. If you tell the scheduler that it’s urgent, they should try to get you in ASAP. Will you be able to get insurance through a spouse/partner or will you be taking advantage of your former employer’s COBRA, if they have it? Just some stuff to consider. Stock up on all prescriptions, max ’em out if you can. This is what screwed me over the most when I didn’t have insurance. Also, I would prioritize working with a therapist, and maybe with your current employment situation, they could go on a sliding scale.
2. Go through your bank statements for the last three months. Highlight the necessities: the bills, the groceries, and the hardest of all, the seemingly superficial stuff that actually helps you stay sane. What that means to you will not be the same for me or anyone else. My gym membership at the time was $50/month and I barely used it, so that was the first to go. Meeting up with friends for dinner or drinks, while seemingly unnecessary, is actually vital for my extroverted personality (I wrote about that here). Once you figured out what you really need versus what you can live without (at least for a little while until you have a job again), cut out everything non-essential. Cancel Netflix, say no to a few things, drive the car less — not that I did any of these things, mind you.
3. Don’t cash out your retirement savings unless absolutely, absolutely on-the-brink-of-flat-out-broke necessary. There are penalty fees for withdrawing early and it doesn’t end up being as much money as you think it’s going to be. Let the magic of compound interest do its thing.
4. Try to keep up some form of a regular routine. The hardest part of being employed is how it throws your whole life out of wack. I started staying up later and sleeping in even further into the afternoon because, hey, why not? At the time, it seemed great. I was bored with having to be at work the same time every day. I wanted flexibility. It turns out that structure and daily routines are the only things keeping me sane.

At the heart of it all is that you’re staring into the blank face of the unknown. Most of us try as hard as we can to avoid this situation. That blank face is unnerving. It’s why we have nightmares of people with missing eyes and ears and nose and mouths. Those dreams represent not knowing, at least that’s my theory. One of the hardest yet essential things in this life is learning to look at that face without turning away. You don’t know what’s going to happen — anything could happen! That’s so scary and so amazing all at once.

The next few hours on that bus was hell. I sat there simmering, wanting so badly to scream, “Take me back to New York!” Take me back to the escape from my real life, not closer to the problems. When the bus pulled into a rest stop a few hours later, I ended up talking to some kid with his hair in a ponytail and a torn t-shirt. “I just got laid off! I don’t know what I’m doing!” He had bounced between New York and Pittsburgh for years, depending on where he was with money. He worked at Whole Foods, said it was an easy gig. I ended up passing him in the hallway for almost two years.

The next few years ended up being the most exciting, terrifying, exhilarating, frustrating, and challenging of my life. I wouldn’t have described it that way at the time, of course. It was horrible to live through at times, but it beats the alternative. I can’t guarantee anything, but I know you will come out of this experience a stronger person. When you say that is it “sortof ok,” I believe that and I hope you do as well.

And honestly, my Van Morrison recommendation may seem like a joke, but what better to describe your situation than the lyrics to “Brand New Day”:

When all the dark clouds roll away
And the sun begins to shine
I see my freedom from across the way
And it comes right in on time
Well it shines so bright and it gives so much light
And it comes from the sky above
Make me feel so free make me feel like me
And it lights my life with love
And it seems like (seems like) and it feels like (feels like)
And it seems like (seems like), yes it feels like (feels like)
A brand new day

All the best!