So far, I've been riding a roller-coaster of emotions. First I was pissed off. We all like to think if we work ourselves nearly to death, with a chipper attitude and a "no problem" spirit we'll be safe when the axe falls, but I always knew that to some fat cat somewhere (not pulling my hours, or handling anywhere near the amount of work I did, but getting paid four times as much) I was just a number on a spreadsheet. So, my number came up and that was that.
Pissed is still making a regular appearance, but takes a backseat sometimes to fear (I liked a regular paycheck), sorrow, happiness (I really missed writing fiction), and excitement.
A few days before it happened, we watched The Sound of Music. Maria reminded me that when god (or whatever-insert your preference here) closes one door, a window opens. That bit of hope helped me explain this sudden turn of events to my devastated daughter, who admitted she was mostly upset because she liked my office, and the food at work. She felt better too when I pointed out how tired mommy always was, how often I was away from home, working at night and on the weekends, and reminded her that I might actually be able to be an active mom again, and much happier not working like a slave.
So, aside from the worry over how I'll pay my mortgage next month, I'm doing fine. At the moment at least.
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