I was fired for the first time in my entire life on September 16, 2008.
In the year since, I've been fired again, denied unemployment for 6 months, moved twice, and was denied unemployment again. I lost my friends, my pride, my home, my sense of comfort, and my girlfriend of almost a year posted pictures of herself making out with her new boyfriend on my Facebook less than 2 weeks after she dumped me.
it's been a rotten year.
But just like anything else that's difficult, it comes with an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. After all of this, I made it.
I understand that the calendar page is in and of itself meaningless. I recognize that there isn't an actual decider here tapping his watch to remind me that I still have ten days left and don't count your chickens. I concede that just because I awaken on September 17, it doesn't mean that I won't find some other tragedy waiting down the hall.
But making it through the actual period of time has a lot of meaning. When I got fired, I felt trapped. I was squeezed into a small box, taking giant panic breaths. Each inhalation making the ail more stake and bereft of oxygen. I was drowning in a void, try to twist a few more drops of oxygen out stale air. Abandoned and forgotten, in an area where the sunlight find you.
I certainly don't feel like that anymore. Hooray progress.
Why I don't is complicated. It's mostly because I now feel I have a chance, much more than before. I am working again, and I am working at lot, which is it's own panacea. Some people might groan at the idea of working 12 hours. I love it. I sat on my knees in my apartment, praying for rewarding work. Now that I have it you might say I have an unquenchable thirst.
I guess this will be 10 days of reflection. I am going to post stuff on all of my websites for the next 10 days. Indulgent? A bit. But it has been helping. I wrote a thing that I will post here on that day, it was painful to write but blessedly cathartic.