Yesterday was my last day of work until I get hired someplace else. I thought that yesterday would be harder than it was--not that it wasn't hard . . . perhaps I mean I thought it would be more emotional than it was. And as I was thinking this over I think it's because I had a year of emotions already: crying and anger and peace and doubt. The past six months went by really fast, and all of a sudden I was in my last three days and I didn't quite know what to do with myself.
I think the hardest part was that not everyone was aware that I was leaving, or if they were, they didn't know that it wasn't exactly my choice. Which means that I had to explain it a lot, and I wasn't really sure how. The second hardest part was that inevitable question: "What are you doing next?" To which the only answer I had was "I don't know." Someone asked me that and then sent me an email apologizing for it. I responded and said that it was no big deal, I knew that people just cared and wanted to know. I was surprised when I received a response back and she said that I had a really positive attitude.
Here's the thing: I don't really feel like I have a choice.
What is a bad attitude going to do? It's not going to help me find a job; it's not going to get my job back. That's not to say that I haven't ever had a bad attitude over this because I have. It's to be expected, it's part of the grieving process. But when people are curious and care about you, what is having a bad attitude going to do but push them away? There are times when I don't want to talk about it because lately it seems like that's all I ever talk about and nothing has changed, but if I politely tell someone that I don't want to talk about it, they understand.
Anyway, to keep myself occupied until I get a new job, I've been trying to come up with some things to keep me busy and occupied. Of course, I'll be cleaning and organizing, etc. (I joked yesterday that I'm basically becoming a housewife but without the other income . . .) I'll also be working on my writing, and I have this crazy idea about working on my penmanship. I've never really liked my handwriting and I guess after working with 19th century documents, I want to have a pretty script. I have this idea that I just want to be this fancy person--a cute little writing desk, fountain pens, leather journal, wax seal (this has come true--I got one from the editors for a farewell gift!), etc. Sooo, basically I want to be someone who lived before the 1940s (which is when the ballpoint pen was invented).
Anyway, here are to the days of my unemployment, may they not last long.