A thank you to life, the universe and everything…and good-bye

It is no secret that a woman in want of a job must be patient, persistent, and full of self confidence.  I have definitely been a woman in want of a job, though barring the successful completion of a criminal background check, I’ll be starting a shiny new job in a few weeks. (NB: All new jobs are shiny until proven guilty.)

Am I any of those things a woman in want of a job is supposed to be? Yes. Kind of. Shut up.

Does mule headed count as persistent? I’m nothing if not mule headed. Ask anyone.

Patient? I’m very patient about reading a good book or carving a wood block.  I can sand a piece of silver jewelry longer than you would ever think possible. Filling out job applications is what they have to do in the upper circles of Hell, though, and I have NO patience for that. Job applications are on the same level of Hell as ironing, if my recollection of Dante’s Inferno is accurate. Suicides, ironing and job applications.

Self-confident? Most of the time, when work isn’t doing their best to convince me I’m of no value, I’m very self confident about my intelligence and ability to learn new things. The last year has been a challenge to my inner smart girl. Let’s call me self-confident-ish.

If I’m not entirely full of self confidence at the moment, I am very full of other things. Mint tea. Sarcasm. Popsicles. Chicken soup. Fantastic family members and friends. I know all of the best people in the world. In spite of what has been one of the worst years of my adult life, I find myself feeling full of gratitude.

One of the odd things I’m grateful for is that my soon to be former employer ended my tenure  in such a drawn out, sad way. Every time they could have made my exit a more positive experience, they didn’t.  No one did anything horrible, and nothing was personal, but it does feel that way when you’re on my side of a reduction in force.

My manager has been fantastically supportive throughout, but often the company itself has been a role model of how not to handle eliminating a work team.  Why am I grateful for that? Because it has resulted in me being genuinely glad to be leaving. I don’t even mean that ironically. The lack of support has resulted in my fully embracing the concept of moving into a new situation instead of being bitter about what I am leaving behind.

In the end, it has made me focus on what I really want instead of just maintaining the status quo. Not being treated like a valued employee has made me see that my professional happiness lies elsewhere.

Does that mean I am not grateful for the years of learning and growth I had while I was there? Not at all.  Quite the opposite! The company has allowed me to grow professionally in a way few others would have. I progressed from a secretarial to a leadership role during the years I worked there. I learned both technical and application-based IT roles. Until the last couple of years, it has been a wonderful place to work, and it is still a worthy company now! I am extremely grateful to have had the opportunity to spend 28 years there.

The company has also enabled me to make an amount of money over the years that has allowed me the freedom to consider personally rewarding jobs that don’t pay as well. Jobs where I feel like I can serve the community as well as  the people I work with. Jobs where I feel like I am giving back.

I’m also very grateful for the dozens of terrific people I have met there over the years, many of whom are now part of my family of friends. You know who you are, and you know how much I love you.

My long time friends and family are also due for some gratitude. They have listened to me cry and complain and tell them that I don’t know how to do anything useful for the past year. They’ve tried to reassure me that I am still smart, capable and employable. They’ve stood by me through an abusive coworker, the longest lay-off process ever, and my sometimes overwhelmed emotions when I looked for and didn’t find continued employment in the company I thought of as the place I would eventually retire from. They reassured me that I was NOT an unemployable dumbass who would die alone in a gutter, kept me (mostly) laughing at my own histrionics, and generally kept me as sane as it was possible to be during a really awful year. Even after I told some of them I was going to have to sell my house and move in with them during my unemployment and let them buy me beer.  Seriously. I know the best people. You have no idea.

Most of all, I have to say I am grateful for how much this very difficult period of transition has opened me up to new possibilities. Personally, romantically and professionally. Change comes through difficult times, or there’s not much motivation to change. My former employer has allowed that to become possible. Could they have done things better? Yes, but so could I.   As it turns out, I’m very grateful they didn’t do better, because it has lead me to a place I am very happy to be. Personally and romantically happier than I have been in years, and professionally open to new challenges.

It looks like I’ll be starting a new job in a couple of weeks with a local non-profit organization working with the LGBTQ+ community. I’m also a finalist for another non-profit that works with homeless youth. It’s a boost to my previously mentioned self-confidence, for sure.  Both positions are a bit of a change of direction, still healthcare, but working in a clinical rather than IT setting. I’m excited about it, excited about the group of very committed professionals I’ll be working with. It will be scary, but fun. It will be good for me, and I’m grateful for the opportunities that have come my way. Hopefully it will be just as good for the people I work with and the community at large.

I’ll have a chance to feel like a useful part of something again.

Ultimately, the thing that I’ve never quite managed to overlook is that in spite of a really ugly year at work, I am quite privileged in many ways. I have a good mind, enhanced with years of education, technical training and reading. I have friends and family who would be behind me 1000% in case of disaster. I have savings, a retirement plan, and a severance package that will allow me to choose my professional path without too much concern about money.

I have the luxury of choice, and a grateful heart.

Thanks for getting me through the last year.



An Autumn tale

It was a lovely Fall afternoon, and what better time for a walk? It was Halloween, it had rained the night before, and the fallen leaves had left stains behind on the sidewalks which were revealed now that the leaves had dried and blown away in the sun. Of all the things about her favorite season, Fall, leaf stained sidewalks were her most favorite. Leaf stains, like ghosts of leaves. They stayed on the sidewalk sometimes for weeks. Nature’s own form of printmaking. She had one leaf ghost in her garage which had been there for years.


Wait, though. Did that one just move? No. It had to be a trick of light. A shadow. 


She laughed at her own overactive imagination, but couldn’t help walking around the leaf ghost that had moved. It was shaped like a leaf man. Her eyes rolled at herself.


A leaf man.

Don’t be silly.


She stepped over it a little higher than she really needed to, and when she felt something touch the bottom of her boot, she almost fell trying to jump away in mid step. She ran a few steps. Stifled a scream. Stopped.


Oh, come ON. Don’t be an idiot. A stain on the sidewalk can’t touch you!


She turned. Stood at the crack on the sidewalk and looked down at the leaf shape.That was not a stain on the sidewalk.That was not one of her leaf ghosts. That was definitely. Definitely what?  Alive? Leaf ghosts are not real. They’re just stains left behind by dead leaves.


Maybe so. Maybe it was just a stain, but the stain on the sidewalk was looking at her. There was a shadow of a smile. A literal shadow of a smile. On the face of a leaf ghost on the sidewalk.


Leaves don’t have faces. Stop being ridiculous. You’re imagining things.


Still, she could plainly see that the leaf was tilting his head at her and smiling. She tried very hard not to scream. To act like there was nothing amiss.


The leaf ghost beckoned to her to come closer. She shook her head. No. Why would she go closer? She didn’t want to be closer.


Stop being crazy! It’s a stain on the sidewalk. There is nothing to be afraid of!


She took a step closer to prove to herself that she wasn’t going crazy.  She leaned down. The leaf ghost reached out to her, touched her foot. She tried to move back. Couldn’t. Her foot wouldn’t move. Her foot was rooted to the sidewalk. Rooted. Sinking into it. Breathing too quickly, she bent down to untie her shoe to free it from the sidewalk. The leaf ghost grabbed her fingers, and they too were rooted. She was being pulled in.


The sidewalk became pliable and stretched around her like plastic wrap. Concrete cling wrap, she thought. Her last thought.


She looked up and saw people walking above her on the sidewalk. She pressed her hands against the concrete.


“Look,” they said, “a leaf ghost! It almost looks like it’s moving. Don’t you love Fall?”


An imaginary conversation about being a hypochondriac

I think I broke my ribs at the gym last night.

You did not break your ribs.

Google disagrees.

While you’re Googling, you should look up the symptoms of hypochondria.

OK. Wait, what? I am not a hypochondriac!

Yes. You are most definitely a hypochondriac. 


Do you want me to read the definition to you?

No, I can read it myself. 

You probably should. 

OK. Fine. I am kind of a hypochondriac. 

Kind of?

A lot. 

You have a different imaginary illness every week. 

Some of them are real. 

One. One of them was real, but your overall stats are pretty bad.

Everyone says that.

Why do you think that is?

Because I always think that everything I notice about my body is some sort of illness.

You’re so dramatic. 

Always have been. 

At least you’re getting better at sarcasm. 

Are you being serious right now?

Well, I thought you were getting better at it…

%d bloggers like this: