Little Miracle in Big Red Letters

Let me know if this has ever happened to you.

Summer 2016.  Laid off.

I like to tell myself good and bad stories, usually in that order.  (Sometimes, I wish I would just shut up and stop telling myself these stories-they are NEVER true or REAL.)

The good story starts like this:  Even though I’ve been laid off, I am still being considered for a position.

(I have one of those jobs where lay offs are just another one of the job skills.  “Must be able to tolerate being laid off without being told and stay positive. While left guessing, hoping, and finally praying that you may get another job.”)

The bad story starts like this: After a month of lala land and thinking positively, I need facts.  While attempting to figure out what is going on with the job, I email my contact person, who forwards that email to another person–I don’t even know–who promptly replies that I have been placed into the “pool” as of a month ago– without notifying me.  However, I don’t want to be in the pool.  I’ve been there for over 10 years.  Also, I received no paperwork confirming I could even work in the pool. So I call (you know on the phone), get another contact name, leave a message and never hear anything back.  Voice mail = delete.  Haha…we are ignoring you!  (What did I tell you? Bad story…not true.)

I don’t know if anyone else is like this but sometimes I get in these really bad story telling cycles and can’t get out of them.  I end up not like myself and making myself nuts.

Here’s when it gets worse…a person who was not laid off accidentally emails me rather than the original sender.  I learn they were kept and I was not.  It made me mad.  Really mad.  So mad that while taking my aggression out on cleaning my bathrooms, I put my ring in a safe place and late that evening when I go to find it, it’s not there!  Frantically, I look everywhere.  I even check the trash (I’ve been known to toss things out unknowingly while angry cleaning).  After a few hours, I have to stop looking and force myself to accept it’s gone.  I go to bed, crying, praying “Please God, if I could just see my ring one more time”.

In the morning, I still can’t find my ring.  I’m not mad anymore, just sad, crying and crying. (About the ring and that other person being hired and not me.) I check the trash again,  (you know really dig through it-gross), the garbage disposal, beg my spouse to check the drains (maybe it fell down the drain? his idea).

I’m still so upset and crying that when I try to walk my dog (who always pulls like a wild maniac) I find it impossible to tolerate him.  We don’t even get down the block, I walk him back home.  Grab the big trash can, dig through all those bags (even though it’s totally impossible that the ring is there-but I’ve looked everywhere!) and don’t find it.

I’m so upset, giant tears streaming down my face, I feel so awful and alone.  I decide to go for run, without the dog.  As I’m bawling down the road I happen to catch this word on a van driving by, in enormous red letters (they covered the entire side of the van!), R E L A X.

Now I know this might not mean anything to you but for me written words have always brought me comfort.  And at this particular moment in my life, I did need to relax-big time!

After my run, I was able to relax, and find my ring in that safe place.

I still don’t know about the job.

All I know is that I’m supposed to R E L A X.

UPDATE: August 24, 2016

So…6 days later, after feeling so lost and sad, I get a call from HR…I’ve been requested to come back where I was.  I got the job for one more year.  And afterwards I was really upset and crying. (I’m beginning to think this is my normal response)  Another one of those tears and can’t see –probably not the best condition to drive in–and drive by a car that has giant words painted all over the windows…  B E     H A P P Y!!!

 

 

 

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