So I got laid off.
Which sounds like it might be a bad thing.
And really, it wasn't so awful.
I mean, don't get me wrong: there was some supreme horribleness for the first 48 hours, or so.
There were tears and lots of Kleenex first, followed by the customary mourning period in which I wear sweatpants while laying on the couch eating cold Chinese food and watching entire seasons of "
Dexter" with my cats.
No, that is not what I do ALL the time (just, like, 80% of it).
No, that is NOT attractive.
But once you get past that part, being unemployed is actually not the worst thing that ever happened.
I really, really liked my job. I liked is so much that I worked insanely hard at it.
I was good at it, too. Probably because I worked so hard.
Not that I was being forced to. As I said before, I was quite fond of my occupation.
But this love and this ridiculous work-ethic instilled within me by my parents lead me to a life that involved nothing more than working, sleeping, eating, exercising. Repeat. Day after day.
Which, if you ask me, is not really a life at all.
Life should be about joy.
Or, at the very least, finding satisfaction in things other than those which you are being paid to do.
I
liked my life. I was
okay with the way things were. Because that is what one is
supposed to do.
Did it make me joyful?
Negative, Ghostwriter.
This was not something I realized until I'd had some time to ponder the subject. Truthfully, it is probably not something I would have encountered upon, had I not had some free-time.
However unexpected and unwelcome that free-time was.
When life gives you lemons, they say, make lemonade.
So, I gots to get to makin' me some.
I've had the opportunity to do plenty of things over the last seven days that I haven't done in a long time: I've done laundry, made the bed, washed floors, cleaned my stove. I've read a book (can I even tell you when the last time I was able to read a book without passing out after three sentences was? Do the words "Billy don't be a hero" mean anything to you?), written on actual paper and in a place other than this blog, slept in, cooked every single day, re-arranged furniture...
The day after I lost my job, my Dad told me "enjoy your time off."
There you go, Dad.
I know I won't be unemployed forever.
And, eternal optimist that I am (except when I'm being a fatalist), I am determined to see the silver-lining in this situation beyond the simple matter of household chores and all that other stuff. This was quite clearly the Universe letting me know that I was not meant to have that job any longer than I did. There's something else out there for me. I can feel it.
There needs to be a change in Mollyland- the next task is figuring out what that change should be.
That's my next project, right after I finish
Julie and Julia...because it is wonderful.
I've never been content to just accept something; I need to figure out the
what and the
why.
What do I do now?
Why was this last opportunity not the right fit?
I tend to over-complicate things, though.
I kind of like it that way.
I also like strawberries in my lemonade, too.
So I guess that explains a lot.
