Have you noticed something different about a few of the preceding posts? They quite specifically refer to my job, and all the fine, brilliant, well-groomed, broad-shouldered, full-lipped, bio-diverse, ec0-conscious people who work there. Wait a second, you might think. Isn't it egregiously soft-minded to refer to your place of business in any way, lest you ruffle the quill that signs your check?
Yeah. About that.
As we have all learned at one point or another, it is unwise to fuck with nature. And in 2004, 18 months after I had named my blog, I had the effrontery to seek and find gainful employment. This displeased the Keepers of the Logic, who are similarly irked that people drive on parkways and park in driveways. And that noses run, and feet smell.
I tried to appease these forces over these past six years by describing myself as "between layoffs," and the universe seems to have risen up to fulfill that destiny and strike a blow for logic and order.
Friday is my last day here. For the third time in a row, I've been laid off.
Before you start rending your garments, it's important to note that this time is different. This time, I told them I was looking for something new, and they saw an opportunity to downsize someone who wanted to leave anyway. It's time to go, and the door will not hit me in the ass on the way out.
Yes, the job market is having a bit of a shit fit right now, and the job I was up for last week didn't come through. But I can't shake this feeling that all this is happening for a reason, and that I am meant to spend some time cultivating whatever entrepreneurial instincts I have. Which basically means I'm going to walk the fine line between 1) being brave with my life and 2) being a deluded schmuck eating PopTarts six nights a week.
The way I see it, this new lifestyle gives me the chance to take my kids to school every day, write a lot more, and transfer whatever pittance I earn right to my COBRA provider.
Sweet!
