It was a beautiful Monday morning last summer as I sat down on a lounge chair to relax. I had lost my job five days earlier, but was in no rush to find the next job – or even to look. So I was taking some time off: My plan was to do whatever I wanted to do. I had spent the previous four days backpacking with friends on an already-planned (and wonderful) trip. This was the first day I would have been going to work if I still had my job. I did my morning meditation, solved the Wordle, and started flipping through the newspaper. Soon, I noticed a sinking feeling spreading through the pit of my stomach and a growing sense of dread.
This dread wasn’t about money or health care — I had planned for those things. It wasn’t about any specific need. Instead, it was about my complete freedom, and the lack of structure suddenly staring me in the face. I am a person of habit and routine whose routines were gone, and whose habits no longer felt relevant.
This post is the second in a series of posts reflecting on losing my job.
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My lounge chair, newspaper, and games waiting for me. |
