It all began on a Friday...

It's funny how one can so intensely mourn something for 12 hours, then be pretty OK after that.

On Friday, January 9th, I experienced the great American classic...the layoff. I had been at home with the flu for most of the week. I was getting ready to jump on a client teleconference, when I got a call from work at 2:45. As soon as I learned that our regional director, the ops director, my manager and the HR rep were on the speakerphone, I knew it was coming. Those people don't get together to have a party.

They explained how sorry they were to give me the news over the phone, but they had a deadline;it was just bad timing. They all seemed pretty upset at having to pull the plug, and I know that it's genuine. The HR rep went through some details, which I barely heard, there were more condolences, a promise to come into the office Monday to talk and I hung up. Then I went to the fridge and poured myself a tall vodka tonic.

I felt so shocked and torn. I've never been laid off or fired before, so I felt an immediate sense of loss...a "what's wrong with me" sense. Maybe I had a childlike sense of job "immortality" which led me to be too comfortable.

Shortly thereafter, my layoff, as well as two others, were announced in the studio. I started receiving a deluge of texts and calls. Although it made me feel so good that people like me enough to be concerned and upset, it definitely kept my emotional tidal wave going. I stayed on the phone with different people until about 7. Then my friend N came over to console me and cheer me up. By talking with her, I think I was able to start processing and accepting the whole ordeal. Plus I think my eyes were so drained that I had no more moisture left in my body to cry. After she left, I went to bed...ambien, take me away!