Here’s how the political maneuvering (that began at least two, maybe three years ago, cranked into high gear last year, and went into overdrive this year) played out: yesterday, I Got Fired.
It was, strangely, both unsurprising yet still unbelievable.
I’ve never, ever been Fired before, from anything for any reason, except for a brief blip in my early 20s, when I was fired (after a shouting match) from a screen printing company and re-hired (with an apology) three days later. I have Quit (many times), and I have Not Been Hired, but this is new. So now, while still moving full-tilt towards my great summer, I need to find out how one applies for unemployment, how long the health insurance will or won’t last, and the like.
The oddest and most surprising thing about it is that I woke (after pleasant, scented dreams of Eilean Leodhais) incredibly feeling a wee bit sorry for those who fired me. And yesterday, on my way out the door, I actually said to the fire-er, “Well, good luck to you, then.” (She replied, “Bring back the computer.”)
Already, I’m getting tons of support (thank you!) and I’m feeling fine: much, much lighter, and very glad the whole absurd, unnecessary, grueling scenario is finally over. In the end, in a manner of speaking, it all boils down to just a wee bit of a bitch, or a tiny prick, or an insignificant little Jab…or maybe all three.
A gift from one of my first great teachers, long ago, who got fired during a political takeover. That entire school closed down, shortly thereafter. “Graduation Ceremony, Lecture #?” by Reed Alan Thomason, 1976