Monday, December 10, 2012

And Just Like That...

Dear Diary:

I guess you could say that this entry is about five years in the making.  Actually, you could say a lot of things about what I am about to tell you.  You could pat me on the back and tell me that it will all be okay.  You could tell me that things will get better.  You could over analyze it and quite frankly cause me to slap you in the back of your head and which in turn would cause you to spew your beer all over your shirt (if it is made by Ed Hardy, you will thank me later).  But you can't really say anything until I tell you, so here it is.

The single most ironic thing about my job is the fact that it, the actual job, is the last remaining connection I have to my ex-wife.

For almost five years now, I have had to tolerate this fact because my divorce apparently coincided with the single worst fucking economy since the 1930s.  Lucky me.  This has made it increasingly difficult to find another job that would pay me close to what I make now so that I could afford to not only pay my mortgage, but not have to live off of tuna fish and Ramen.

In tolerating this inconvenient truth, I have taken business trips that have returned me to the place where I proposed.  I have driven by the places where we were happy.  I have seen people who were at my wedding.  I have been asked how my wife and family were doing, as people assumed that I was still married and at this time bouncing a baby on my knee.

But not too long ago I was told my office was closing and along with it, my job was disappearing. 

Now, I am having mixed emotions about this as you could probably imagine.  I mean, on the one hand, it sucks that I do not know how I am going to pay my bills in the near term.  But on the other, I am actually pretty fucking happy that I lost my job since I will never have to return to the place it all began.  Or at least it will not be decided without me making the decision that I will return there.

(This is where I tell you that I have been staring blankly at the screen trying to figure out how to put my thoughts into words for the past 15 minutes, just so that I could start typing and have something profound emerge from the depths of my soul or something, but it's not easy).

Granted, ideally I would have liked to make the decision about leaving my job rather than have someone else do it for me.  I would have liked that security in knowing that I would be starting something new already, rather than this feeling of unknown that I face.  But, as someone told me once, I am not the first person to lose my job, and I certainly won't be the last.

But I would also have liked to sever that final connection on my terms.  I wanted to have control over it, probably because as with so many other things concerning the end of my marriage, control was something of which I had very little.  But that was not to be the case in this instance, and for once, finally, I am completely at peace with that fact.

So now you may be thinking, "Well, if he is um, 'happy', about losing his job, then I tell him...?"

And this is where I tell you to please, spare me the condolences about being unemployed, because the first 200 people that I ran into already gave me enough sympathy.  I have nothing but new beginnings in front of me.  Nothing but new challenges.  Nothing but new opportunities.

Once again, I am starting over, and considering where I have been and what I have endured, this time, it is going to be easy.