Just for something completely different, I thought I'd blog about the Place About Which I Do Not Blog, because what can they do, fire me? Well, it turns out that they can, but not for blogging. Actually, I’ve known for quite some time that I’d be losing my job; we were “acquired” last year and we’re closing down. I have five days left. I’ve never been unemployed before. I’m totally looking forward to getting out of here, but I’m a little anxious. For most of the 7 ½ years I’ve worked here, I liked it very much. The work was challenging, I was very busy, and there were great people here. The last year, however, has been interesting; and by interesting, I mean not even slightly interesting, and rather horrid. On the one hand, having next to nothing to do all day, every day, has freed up a lot of time for blogging, commenting, and schoolwork. On the other hand, I’ve had nearly nothing to do, all day, every day. As for coworkers, there aren’t many of us left, and we have had plenty of time to get to know each other better. Familiarity breeds something, and it’s not affection. Contempt might be too strong a word (for all but a few people) so let’s just describe it as profound tiredness, which I’m sure is mutual. (Ridiculous, right?) I’ve stayed because I was asked to, and by “asked to”, I mean “paid to”. I’m receiving a retention payment in addition to a severance package, so I stayed. It’s not “bailout”-type money or anything. I mean, I could maybe buy a seat in the Maryland House of Delegates but the U.S. Senate is probably out of my budget. (Unless there’s an installment plan? Note: Look into this) Anyway, it was enough that staying until the end was worthwhile.
I’m an idiot sometimes, so I just started reading The Glory and the Dream. It’s been on one of my bookshelves forever (Christmas present from my mother, I think), but I’d never read it. If you happen to lose your job right in the middle of a recession, skip the first chapter of this one, which covers in detail the grimmest depths of the Depression. I had to put it down so that I could devote my full attention to the panic attack involving visions of my family living in a cardboard box. I’ve recovered nicely now. I mean, our cars are paid for, so at worst, we’d live in them. No, seriously, we’re totally fine; I can even take some time off. Since I want to take some time in the summer, I’ll probably temp for a while, and I expect that to give me plenty of red Swingline stapler and TPS report material. Meanwhile, I have a desk to clean out.