Sunday Afternoon Movie

I just finished watching the George Clooney film , "Up in the Air", via my cable company. I've been so busy lately, I have not had time to get to the theatre to watch a movie, so the "Movies On Demand" function of my remote is a welcome perk.
I'd heard this was a good film and the trailers looked interesting, so I thought I'd give it a try.

I must say, I found the movie profoundly depressing. Don't get me wrong, it was well acted by all the principal stars, an interesting viewpoint from which to tell the story and very well executed, but from the first few minutes, I found myself silently sobbing. Tears streamed down my face intermittently throughout the whole picture, at the depictions of middle-aged people being told they were no longer needed and had been let go from their jobs.

I relate to this pain on a visceral level. I know first-hand, the utter despair and sense of worthlessness you feel when being told by your company that they no longer need or want you as a part of their operation. I know what it is like to be dismissed one day, left with no recourse, after years of dedication and hard work. I remember lying awake in the early morning hours wondering how in God's name I would pay my bills and fill my hours. I have an intimate connection to this terror; I know it personally.

None of it seemed real to Ryan, the protagonist. He managed to keep the ugly reality of his work neatly compartmentalized, and didn't let it get to him. He was unscathed by the hardship and pain of the strangers that he was paid to fire. The tables were turned on Clooney's character, when his romantic foil, Alex, showed him that his emotions were just make-believe to her, as much a non-reality in her life, as the emotions of the victims of his cold dismissal services were in his. In the end, although he'd started to become a sympathetic character and I did feel sorry for him, I think he sort of got what he had coming to him.

On The Road To Find Out

It is strange how quickly life can change. I walk around the apartment in the morning, looking out windows and picking threads off the furniture while I brush my teeth. I have lost interest in all forms of housework lately. At the moment, there is a fine film of dust on everything and the carpet is a mass of stray fibers pulled loose by the cats, testing their claws. My morning ritual used to include doing a load of laundry each day before leaving for work. Now it piles up in the laundry closet off the bathroom, until I have run out of clean underwear. I used to hit the ground running each day, ironing with one hand and wiping the countertop down with the other.

Funny how the more time you have, the less motivation to get things done. Now there's always plenty of time later or tomorrow, so it's easy to put things off and leave them hanging.

After rising I sit on the couch eating breakfast, two eggs over-easy or a bowl of high-protein cereal with blueberries. Rigby waits expectantly nearby for her taste of my breakfast. The two cats sniff at my feet or gallop around the living room, biting each other. The weather is on the television like every morning and the white-haired anchor man's face and the tone of his voice is soothing to me. He seems like a gentleman...someone's sweet dad. Just watching him and listening to him talk makes the world seem like a better place to me. Sometimes I find myself staring at the screen in a fog and I realize that although I never looked away, I have no idea what the forecast is.

Everyone else has gone off for the day and this is how I like it. As previously noted, I like to be alone in the morning and not have to make small talk or answer any questions. I like to be able to get at the sink or the fridge or the bathroom without anyone getting in my way. I need to let my mind acclimate itself to being awake, shifting all the boring minutiae of my life into its proper focus before I have to function and actually think.

As I think about it, I realize that one of the problems with being cut adrift from your job is that it messes up your self-image. Who am I now if not the person that held that position and did that job? What should I say when someone asks what I do for a living?

I have been through this before when my children became adults. I saw my role as mother as my true lifelong occupation and career. Back then, a job was only a way to finance the true life I had with my family. Eventually I took five years off from working to stay home with my kids while they were little, despite the fact that it cast us into a state of near poverty. I loved the play dough, the dolls, the color forms, the water-color painting, the Lego’s, the story reading, Sesame Street, puzzles and puppets,....loved it all. Those were truly the best years of my life. I took great pride in being the best parent I could be. It was the biggest source of joy in my life. Those days flew by in a flash. That time is long gone now and I have to admit, I was surprised to grieve so hard at its passing.

Some years ago, I found myself staring into my daughter's closet and while trying to figure out which clothes still fit her, my eyes fell on several of her favorite toys stored on a shelf. I felt a sense of anxiety churning in the pit of my stomach, as I wondered when I would have some free time to spend playing with her. I suddenly remembered it was Saturday and I felt so relieved and happy that I could stay home and spend a happy day playing with my little girl. I was full of joyful anticipation of a fun day ahead with my baby. A noise outside my bedroom brought me back to consciousness just then, and I woke up to realize that I had been dreaming. It was indeed a Saturday morning, but my little girl was now eighteen years old and had plans of her own for the weekend. There would be no playing dolls or stuffed animals with her, that day, or ever again. I sat up in bed and cried my heart out. Words cannot express the sense of loss and despair I felt on that day. Sometimes I still feel it.

A psychic once told me I was the "root chakra" of my family, "the wellspring of its life force", she said. I felt the truth of that statement when she said it, but that was years ago. I'm glad they are healthy and on the road to being self-sufficient. But, I am sad that they are grown-up. They have little need or desire for my involvement in their lives now.

My husband Mac never really shared my enthusiasm for parenthood, as much as he loves his children. For him, parenthood was sort of harrowing, more like something to survive, rather than something to revel in. For me, it was everything, once upon a time.

I have been trying hard to re-invent myself for the past few years. I guess I had started to relate more to the person I was when I was at my job, and now that too has been yanked out from under me. So who am I now? Time to look deeper for the real me.

At A Loss

I realized today that I have not yet mourned for the loss of my job. You know, the one that cut me adrift six weeks ago. I know I wrote a bit about it and vented a little here and there, but then I started to enjoy the freedom of not having to punch a clock day in and day out. There remains the practical consideration of money, however. I do need it if I want to continue to eat and watch T.V. and have a roof over my head.

Then, suddenly today, I started to feel real sorrow. I loved my job. When I first started there, I felt as though I had been yanked up out of Purgatory into Heaven. I was well paid and felt valued. I could wear jeans if I felt like it and bring Rigby to work if I wanted to. I had my own little office with a sunny window and a desk that I helped to design. I was allowed to choose the color and style of the cabinets and countertop. I picked out the shade of celery green paint on the walls. I lined the window shelf and countertop with plants. I brought in all my music and loaded it onto my computer so I could listen all day. I burned fragrant candles and worked happily away at my own pace for the most part. At certain times of the year it was insanely busy, but even that felt good...the satisfaction of having done a good day's work when I punched out in the evening.

I got along well with most of the people there, and I felt that my supervisor was truly a good friend. It was a great job, the best job I've ever had.

On the day I was laid off, my supervisor told me I could just leave anything I didn't feel like taking that day. No one else would be using my room, he said. Maybe he was in denial too. I took everything I wanted and threw the rest away, except for the two "excellence" awards that I left on the shelf as an ironic statement.

Today I was in the area, so I drove by my old workplace. I had heard that due to the downsizing, the building is now too large and pretty empty. To further cut costs, they decided to lease half the space to a different company. The few remaining employees were all moved into one half the original space.

As I drove by my old office, I saw a silk flower arrangement sitting on the window shelf of my little office room. My office! Someone else's flowers! A shock of realization hit me...it's really not my office anymore! Someone else has taken it over and now it's their office. I felt like I'd been punched in the stomach. Even though I knew there was a chance I would not be hired back, today for the first time it feels real. If another company is leasing part of the building, they can't just toss them out after a few months. There literally won't be any room for any of us to be hired back.

My son said, "Mom, cut your losses and move on. Looks like you really will have to find a new job now."

With seven percent unemployment and companies still letting people go, that will be much easier said than done. I really have to say goodbye to that part of my life-the past seven years. I know I'll never see most of those people again now. I don't even have their phone numbers. Many of them live hours away and we had little in common other than work, but still... Writing about it now, there is a lump in my throat and I want to cry. It's NOT FAIR!

I Didn't Expect This...

I always imagined that I would be bored if I had no job to go to each day. In the first few days immediately after I was laid off I was anxious and gloomy, full of dread. After a day or two spent handling technicalities, ie: applying for unemployment compensation, cancelling any non-essential services, (bye bye manicures, salon color & haircuts, IRA contributions and life insurance policies!), I thought my days would be long and empty. An amazing thing has happened, though... the days are flying by and are full of interesting pastimes. I have been making jewelry, writing, drawing and walking outside every day. I wish I owned a decent camera because I see so many incredible pictures in nature every day. I'm planning on sewing some clothes even though I have not touched a machine in over 20 years. I spend time playing with Rigby and I have lost ten pounds because my butt isn't glued to an office chair all day. I stay up as late as I want, and I sleep as late as I want. I have been sleeping through when I was used to waking three or four times each night. I have found all these fascinating blogs that I look forward to reading each day. I feel no stress. I actually have time to exercise and most importantly, time to think!
There are the obvious problems of having no money and no health insurance,(and those are big ones, believe me), but strangely enough, I am sort of loving this new lifestyle.
The company I had been with for the past seven years told me that the plan was to hire me and the others back as soon as the economy perked up and sales kicked in again. On the day I was cut adrift, my biggest fear was that they would not hire me back quickly. Today, my biggest fear is that they will...