Skip to main content

Slowly severed

In what is surely going to be the most heroic effort in being laid off made by a creative writer in corporate america (in 2011, San Francisco, by someone who uses cuteoverload.com and humor to aid in getting through the day) the saga of being severed drags on.  It is now "yes, HR will be contacting you," which means it's officially known that I've proactively passively not applied for a job in the new organization and therefore opted out.  BUT, there is still no end in sight.  And in fact a vaguely threatening, "I can keep you here as long as I need you" was uttered this week.   Shudder.  Now, I know that's not the worst scenario: it does give me more time to save, to begin adjusting my spending habits ($11 cocktails, I will miss you most), ponder my life choice.  But with the end date a murky couple months away and no definite end point (and therefore no ability to plan things like, oh, Christmas) I feel a little ill.
(a photo I took in Tauranga, New Zealand in 2009.  Sums up how I feel about this process)
While I'm very good at using humor to keep myself from losing my shit, I'm also really really good at perseverating over things that make me feel anxious, and my job (especially now) is the focus of WAY too many mental hours and has been for WAY WAY too long (shall we say, all of 2011?).  My coping mechanisms at work are breaking down and while I'd like to think the real me was emerging from that, I think it might just be the real stressed me.  She's not pretty, I'd like her to go back into her closet please.

The thing is, work, while currently item #1 in my areas of thought-sucking ruminations, is just one thing going on, and there really are so many many good things going on.  Last night I got to read with Evan Karp's brainchild Quiet Lightning and it was crazy good.  A group of emerging authors, the loveliest audience a reader could have, lights strung across Chicken John's ceiling like a barn dance might break out at any moment and the distinct sense that it was just plain good to be there.  Writers who help other writers are my heros.  I've also been re-introduced to James Burke's Connection series (here's a taste on YouTube, but you can also get the whole thing at the San Francisco Public Library), an alternative view of change (man, I need that right now).  It makes my brain tingle.  Oh, and very very soon I leave for a pacific northwest tour (i.e. visiting the fam in Oregon and Washington) to finally meet my nephew Ryder James Rice (I hope he likes me).  So, that's not even a complete list of good things going on, and at least in quantity outweigh work.  It's good to be reminded that right now, that part of life is in shadow.  But soon we'll pass through onto the sunny side.
Meanwhile, as I'm ever so slowly severed, I am thankful for friends, words, and websites that make me happy.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

For Mom, Twenty-One Years Later

I lost my mom twenty-one years ago today. She died from complications related to a long battle with chronic-progressive multiple sclerosis. I was a week away from turning twenty-one. Which means I have not had her as long as I did have her.
It used to make me unique among my friends, to have lost a parent at such a young age. But I’m no longer young and many friends have joined this depressing club. The dues are astronomical and no one prepares refreshments.
People, moms are important. Don’t let anyone tell you differently. Whether you were once a child or are currently a mom. They are the sun, moon, and stars, even when they are completely obscured by darkness.
I wish she mattered less. She doesn’t. She matters more than almost anything: that first hit of love, that childhood sense of safety, that initial understanding of what it means to be a woman in the world: mom.



Memory is funny when it comes to dead people: I can remember her any way I want. Which means I can also mis-remem…

The Thankful List

I make a decent attempt at gratitude on the regular, but I love how this season makes me think about it specifically. Even in the midst of all the holiday hoopla and the days of generalized anxiety we currently live in, there are genuine reflections of thankfulness everywhere. Way more so than say Valentine's day prompting people to really reflect on their love for someone. I've been keeping a list in my notes app on my phone to record the things that are currently immense suppliers of joy in my life. Here's an incomplete list:

My dental hygienist.
This is not a product placement disguised as gratitude. This is my genuine, heartfelt gratitude for a woman I see every six months who I have complete trust in, and who makes an otherwise unpleasant experience as humane and awesome as possible. Yes, yes, my dentist is also great. Absolutely. But making a teeth cleaning a pleasant experience is a gift not many hygienists possess. It's a combo of demeanor, the exact right amou…

You Are Not Alone

You Are Not Alone

If you still haven’t found your sea legs in this new reality You are not alone
If you check your privilege while wondering how You are not alone
If your empathy is worn down by 3pm each day You are not alone
If you’re terrified by normalizing this but desire stabilization You are not alone
If you haven’t figured out how to talk to your family about this new reality You are not alone
If you want to post something flippant to social media and feel guilty about it not being political enough You are not alone
If you can’t figure out how to talk about this morning’s tragedy and by the time you do everyone else is raging about the next thing You are not alone
If you are often paralyzed and enraged by your own paralysis You are not alone
If you wish you could go back to the good old days of 2015 You are not alone
If you loathe being so lazy You are not alone <