Let’s see. Yeah. Oh man. It’s been a week and three days since I got SAMOLFed. (Shitcanned At More Or Less Fifty). And you wanna know something? I ain’t done shit.
Now of course that’s not entirely true. It’s kind of a shock when the place you’ve been wishing would fire you for ten years actually turns around and teaches you a lesson in being careful what you wish for, so I did have some of all that to work through. Not only is it a shock to be fired, it’s always surprising to me to find I have all the normal reactions and emotions of my fellow humans – takes a while to build back the comfortable illusion that I’m superior to all you mere mortals, with the clear exception of Wim Hof.
But like, no. I haven’t called around my contacts. I’ve only told a few people in my inner circle, and only a few people were I exwork seem to be aware, either, which is fine. I haven’t updated my resume, although I did open it up and look at it, so I could get my subconscious flowin’. I haven’t posted for anything online, in short, I’m just sort of sitting here.
My circumstances are part of this. Assuming I continue to do my exjob to the fullest of the requirements thereof, I will qualify for a rather plush severance package which will cushion this fall. I also have a few months – as of this writing – before my final day. I got fairly extensive notice in advance (which is a mixed blessing, more on that later, and also see my previous post on Schrodinger’s Employee).
But still. I suppose I could be doing more, but why waste the effort? I know for a fact my brain is not right. If I start calling around, it would be from panic and fear. I can’t take a full month off to find myself. But I can chill and decouple and unlearn for a couple of weeks. Detach myself from my exjob the way that it detached itself from me.
I’ve spent the last fifteen years at that place. And apart from the various trials and tribulations of personal life, that place has been responsible for almost all my emotional ups and downs, been a major priority for most of my time, and yes, taken up the vast majority, by percentage of my waking hours.
Like it or not. As much as I might not want to even get close to the possibility of even thinking about saying this, it’s true, just by default, by objective observation: this job has been my life for more than a decade.
Ya can’t just turn that off willy nilly. Takes a while.
It seems contradictory. After I left that meeting (where I got SAMOLFed), all my fucks went away. Everything I was worried about was no longer any concern to me. But as I got back and knew that I had to stay there a while longer, I did feel myself concerned about issues, wanting to help, and indeed, contributing – as I am supposed to, until my end date.
I guess what I’m trying to say is, it’s a huge restructuring in the mind.
What’s my plan? Well. Obviously I don’t have the great American novel ready to go and earn me seven figures. I had all my eggs really in one basket and likely my short-term solution will be to seek gainful employment elsewhere at a similar, or heck, I can wax optimistic and say maybe even a higher level – but at the same time, I’ll keep this work in context.
At my exjob I never admitted the extent to which I counted on it, took it for granted, and, most importantly, let it take over my life. I considered income a solved problem. Not so much anymore.
This time around I’ll be filling more baskets. I won’t slack at any new position I acquire – probably I’ll do even better. But I will always remember, that all employment is at-will employment.
So work for yourself my friends, and if you don’t, then start moving around the game piece so you can, one day.
End of ramble for today.