You Called To Ask Me When I Was Coming Home, And When I Reminded You That I Wasn’t Coming Home, You Sounded So Disappointed That I Decided To Come Home
My boss called me into her office the day before yesterday to tell me that my contract would not be extended and that I would be let go.
“Like, fired?” I said.
Amazing how I now have a degree in writing and simple words I am unable to understand.
The boss whose dry silence, wry smiles, and wit I’ve admired and loved since the second I interviewed. The boss whose simple style, and whose kindness, patience, and intelligence are unmatched. The boss who stared through me coldly and said sorry pinching her eyebrows together as if the word had no meaning. The boss who said it had nothing to do with my performance, but rather due to budget cuts in her department. I’ve been in her seat, I know how this goes.
Your friends and family behave like there’s been a funeral when you say you’ve lost your job:
“OoOoo I’m so sorry.”
“This too shall pass.”
“You have been through so much, I’m sure everything will be fine.”
And someone did die a little. And I won’t be. Fine. And although I have a separate writing and fashion description company that I run on nights and weekends complete with interns and quote requests—I still love my day job. Loved. I had a blissful few weeks. I’ve graduated. I gave a wonderful senior lecture, and had a fantastic final reading. My Manuscript Thesis is 201 pages. I am also very apparently unemployed.
So I am available for hire: I have an updated resume and a full suit. I have over ten years experience, and a Master’s degree in writing. I even have a closet helper, although she looks about as sad about this as I am.
Lalanii R. Grant, M.F.A
Title Quote by: David Levithan