Six weeks ago, I was fired. Being fired is the professional dumping -- as the receiver of the kick to the curb, I felt blindsided, dumbfounded and totally numb. The same thoughts kept running through my head: "What did I do wrong?" "Oh, my God, what do I do from here?" and "Why would this happen to me?" Basically, the same thoughts that went through my head when I found out that my boyfriend had been cheating on me for over a year. In both situations, I was made to feel totally and utterly replaceable.
Much like breaking up with a significant other, breaking up with a business left me with a lot of free time with little to fill it. Sans boyfriend, I scoured match.com. Sans job, I scoured allaccess.com. And my bathroom. I got mad. I teared up. Post-boyfriend, I imagined scenarios in which I walked into an establishment with a guy that would trounce him in any match-up, be it looks, talent, status or prowess. Post-job, I imagined scenarios where I would become part of an establishment that would trounce my former station in any match-up, be it music, talent, ratings or notoriety.
While my heart had to heal from the break-up, my ego had to bounce back from the termination. After a weekend of wallowing, I got busy making sure I stayed in the game. I wasn't ready to leave the party just yet. I was bound and determined to keep a name for myself and keep in step with the circle I'd been part of for almost four years.
When a break-up is finalized, the vultures start edging into the scene. They either want the gossip on the fizzle, or want their chance at one half of the pair. When a firing happens, the gossip vultures appear immediately. As for trying to scoop up the bird pushed out of the nest, those scavengers have to be called in. So I called. I emailed. I grilled colleagues. Anyone, anything, anywhere that would keep me in the game.
Six weeks after a break-up, its time to move on from the past. Six weeks after a termination, its time to move into the future.
28 February 2008
I Saw Red
Six weeks ago, I was fired. Being fired is the professional dumping -- as the receiver of the kick to the curb, I felt blindsided, dumbfounded and totally numb. The same thoughts kept running through my head: "What did I do wrong?" "Oh, my God, what do I do from here?" and "Why would this happen to me?" Basically, the same thoughts that went through my head when I found out that my boyfriend had been cheating on me for over a year. In both situations, I was made to feel totally and utterly replaceable.
Much like breaking up with a significant other, breaking up with a business left me with a lot of free time with little to fill it. Sans boyfriend, I scoured match.com. Sans job, I scoured allaccess.com. And my bathroom. I got mad. I teared up. Post-boyfriend, I imagined scenarios in which I walked into an establishment with a guy that would trounce him in any match-up, be it looks, talent, status or prowess. Post-job, I imagined scenarios where I would become part of an establishment that would trounce my former station in any match-up, be it music, talent, ratings or notoriety.
While my heart had to heal from the break-up, my ego had to bounce back from the termination. After a weekend of wallowing, I got busy making sure I stayed in the game. I wasn't ready to leave the party just yet. I was bound and determined to keep a name for myself and keep in step with the circle I'd been part of for almost four years.
When a break-up is finalized, the vultures start edging into the scene. They either want the gossip on the fizzle, or want their chance at one half of the pair. When a firing happens, the gossip vultures appear immediately. As for trying to scoop up the bird pushed out of the nest, those scavengers have to be called in. So I called. I emailed. I grilled colleagues. Anyone, anything, anywhere that would keep me in the game.
Six weeks after a break-up, its time to move on from the past. Six weeks after a termination, its time to move into the future.
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