This morning at work, the corporate grim reaper tapped my shoulder. Yes, my start-up dreams finally crashed and burned after the company’s latest round of fund-raising floundered in an increasingly tough economic climate, necessitating a 33% reduction in force resulting in the elimination of my position, hence…I was laid off.
I can’t say I’m surprised or even upset. Actually, I am a little upset that I was halfway through the arduous and incredibly invasive process of attaining a Top Secret security clearance from the US government for the job, and that everyone whom I glanced at in the past 10 years has been subjected to an interview by a private investigator regarding their knowledge of my activities and lifestyle. Sorry, folks! It was all a big, embarrassing waste of time.
So at 10am this morning, I walked out of the glitzy high-rise office building in downtown Boston probably for the last time. It was the Tuesday morning after a three-day weekend; I had been rearing to work. Although I had only been there six months, I felt jarred at the unexpected freedom and sudden permission to forget about everything I had been doing.
My prospects are much better than the last time I was laid off in 2001. For one thing, I currently have a consulting writing gig for about 10 hours/week to keep me occupied. I have a husband with a good job and health insurance. Even better, I have solid experience, references, and a portfolio.
I walked home on the bike path, my mind chewing on my options. Two leash-less dogs sprinted past me, romping in the crackling brush alongside the trail. I could hear their owner calling to them behind me, but the dogs did not heed his call. They yelped to each other, ducking and racing through trees and rocks, joyous, exuberant, and free. I felt happy to be there on the bike path to watch them.
