Klowns in my Koffee

Well, that was a strange, off-kilter day. I tossed and turned until about 5 AM. Stress? Anguish? That second cup of coffee in the afternoon? ("Bob never has a second cup of coffee at home...maybe he's going to be fired.")

There were several supportive emails in the morning. Many of them were in response to farewell emails that I'd sent to individuals the night before. In a way, the nicest were the ones that came out of the blue from people with whom I had been less connected. There were two or three little shining jewels. The most disappointing were lukewarm seemingly dashed off lines from those that seemed close -- "Have a great life, now get off my porch." Well, not exactly, but you get the drift. And the silences from those who meant most. Are they wallowing in the change the way that I remember doing when the axe came down before and ripped away people that I cared about? Or are they just jerks?

Definite high point - I got an email and a lunch invitation ("Call me right away -- here's my cell") from a close work confidant. Hit all the right notes - I'm shocked, what are they thinking, what's wrong with management that they are intent on removing or driving away all the people who could help save the company... " Fantastic lunch. Shrimp tempura. Lesson for the day: The odd, different people are the ones that will come through for you. The extra effort is worth it to cultivate them.

Applying for unemployment. The online system is very slick and much easier than I had expected. I was fearing something more like: 1) List your flaws in prioritized order from 1 to 150 in the 1 inch box below. Attach extra sheets if required.

No emails in the afternoon. I'm yesterday's news. One of the most disconcerting things is to go from receiving an email roughly even three minutes asking for help or advice to ten solicitations for Viagra in a day. I walk over to my desk every few minutes to see what's there. Nothing? Hit F5. Yep, the nothing that was there before is still there. I can imagine myself squatting next to the mailbox looking like Dorothea Lange's Migrant Mother.

My husband was complaining about our daughter's horrible behavior, saying, "You work so late and they are just like this and even worse with me every night and look what I have to put up with and {insert whiny talk here}" I absolutely snapped. "Well, I got fired. Your problem is fixed." The ferocity surprised even me and I'm not known to mince words. Apparently, I take everything "too seriously."

Regrets. I have a few, but then again too few to mention.

Sorry, Frank.

Did you ever think about the irony of Frank Sinatra's life? While I know that he didn't write the song, he strove to associate it with his view of the world. He should have had a ton of regrets, if not a bucket of remorse. While "it's hard out there for a pimp," I guess you have a clear conscience when you are a thug.

Regrets. If I'd only ...

Still probably wouldn't have made a difference. But you never know. Runs around in the mind.

But, a day without wondering what that glance meant, whether I'm being intentionally passed over, what truth to speak, when or if it will happen -- PRICELESS! There's a wonderful line in Camelot about Mordred: "There's something in his presence that makes his absence seem like holiday." And every Porkus employee knows just whom I'm talking about.

Day 1 Final Thought - I wasn't just paranoid. They were plotting against me.

But I'm paranoid now.