What is the good of being a genius if you cannot use it as an excuse for being unemployed?  ~Gerald Barzan

I have never lacked words; writing has always come naturally to me as an outlet for the lack of verbal ability. I cannot verbally speak well unless presented a topic that I feel confident about; feelings are not one of those topics. Writing is where I feel at ease, alive, functional, and confident. Not being able to convey what is in my head has left me feeling frustrated, not with the situation but with myself.

Week one of being unemployed is behind me. I have made it through the first seven days, with minimal scrapes and bruises; those are mostly to my ego. I hadn’t thought this crazy, intense ride would end with such emotional drainage to my very soul, but I have been lacking words, emotions, thoughts and feelings. Finally, after a week of mourning, with the dog sleeping soundly on my lap, I sit here to pen the words that have for weeks escaped me.

I knew on September 21, 2010 I was going to lose my job. The moment David and Jerry were no longer court administrator and judge, I knew I was next. I also knew that I was only being kept on the payroll because the new Judge needed my credentials to keep the probation office operational until a new one could be approved. He thought me naïve, thought he was getting something by me, but I knew… oh yes I knew.  Being used for someone else’s devious plans did not do well on my psyche, stress levels increased, and I know, even though they never said anything,  my family felt I was barely tolerable.  Moody and detached, fussy, cranky – yeah, well, I didn’t like me either. I played the part well, kept working hard, kept my staff and office running, maintained morale, and planned to work to the very end and go out with my head held high.

The final blow came, not as the knockout punch I’d anticipated, but as a blessing in disguise instead.  A hot water pipe burst on the 2nd floor of the office, and after a huge flood, and following a week office displacement we were  told we were moving back to the unsuitable, mold infested, haggard building they called the city court-house.  Yeah I had to be the loud mouth that brought up the fact this was unacceptable. So loud was my response that I called in the Calvary, and the media ate it up like hot peach cobbler.  Justice was served in a small victory in that the remaining staff would not have to remain in that awful building, but were being relocated; oddly the same week as I was losing my job, they were getting a new start. The peace I felt from knowing I’d at least accomplished that was refreshing, for all that I was losing something good had come of it.

After all was said and done, I was accused, fussed at, ignored, and cast aside,  and finally,  the inevitable, terminated. We were officially outsourced, and had 5 days to get the office packed and ready to go.  Integrity in tack, we delivered a perfectly organized set of files, marked, noted and ready to go. My staff is amazing.

I turned the lights off in my office at 5:16pm Monday, February 28, 2011.  I looked around at this lovely creation that was my baby and that I had been watching grow and evolve for six years as it was sitting in boxes ready to be shipped off to them, the anti-probation office that is sure to destroy my baby. My heart dropped as I said goodbye to this part of my life. I felt as though a part of me was staying in this office, it was an odd feeling.

The quiet of every day lately has been welcomed, sorting out my thoughts, doing yoga to clear my head and strengthen my body and most of planning for my next step. Tomorrow is up to me and no one else. No one will determine what I do or do not do except me. I have to decide what I want, then go in that direction.

 In the last two weeks, I have been told by four different people, that I should write. “Become a writer”, at which point I giggle.  You see, I have often said I am not a writer, I ramble, but a writer – no that’s reserved for other people, not ME.  However, the intense emotions of sheer joy that overwhelms me when I sit down to jot a few thoughts out, has been enough to make me at least consider the possibility.  It intimidates me beyond all possible limits. That thought mocks me when I read a line only to see error after error. But most of all, it intrigues me and gives me that giddy butterflyie feeling of expectations and excitement.

I do not know what tomorrow has in store, but I do know as I sit here waiting for its revelation, I will be careful to take notes, for today’s lessons may just be tomorrow’s best seller.

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