The Room Where it Happens

Hi, Hey, Hello!

The pressure of this song was immense when it actually came to sitting down and writing it, mainly because it is kind of my fave song of the whole show and I didn’t even know where to start with it.  But I like I did for alllllll the previous posts (give or take a couple that already existed in the world) I just sat at my keyboard and went with it. So there that is.

‘We dream of a brand new start, but we dream in the dark for the most part’

I lost my job.

lost my job.

I. Lost. My. Job.

I just went in to work one morning full of pep (not really, but I was exuding the idea of pep) and running through all the things that I needed to get done before 11 and then I was called into my boss’ office.

And told that while they appreciated my 5 years at the company and all that I had done for them there was just no space within the company anymore for my role. They had figured out how to re-resource it to other people that had been with the company longer and wanted to stretch their work responsibility. I switched off after that because it was abundantly clear that I was being made redundant. I had poured my blood, sweat and tears, (sometimes literally, I cut my arm once and had to go to the hospital because the bleeding just would not stop) into this job for. Five. Years.

There had been murmurings throughout the office that this might be happening. And to be honest I was naive, or arrogant, enough to think that I was probably safe should that not be a rumour. In fact anyone who had dedicated more than 3 years of their life to building that company to where it was kind of thought they were safe. We all just assumed that it would work on a last in, first out basis.

But here I am, some many days later, sat on my sofa in the middle of the afternoon wearing my pyjamas and eating raw cookie dough because baking it would be too much effort, and I can hear my dad telling me that it’s a terrible thing to do because I’m going to give myself some kind of food poisoning, but I cannot bring myself to care. It’s almost like I have nothing to live for anymore.

In my unemployment I have also reached extreme hyperbolic levels.

I’ve spent a lot of time just sitting in silence in the flat that I may or may not be able to pay for by next month just wondering if it could possibly get any worse. Surely this is as bad as it gets. Nothing could be worse. Then I remember that I could lose my flat, my health, someone that I care about deeply, I mean honestly that list could go on. I’ve got the list to 45. There are definitely 45 things that are worse than losing my job and counting.

But eating raw cookie dough for brunch kind of feels like the worst it’s going to get.

I don’t have a Plan B. I fell into Plan A purely by accident. I learnt quite quickly that I was good at it but it was never really my plan do it. I don’t even remember what the original plan was. It was probably something to do with drama. That’s what my degree is to do with anyway. Performing. But it’s not what I did. No, I worked with words and marketing strategies and arseholes. I received emails at 3am that demanded immediate attention and spent hours redoing things that had minor errors in. I dedicated my life to a job that did nothing but take. But I loved it. I was good at it. I had a lot of responsibility and the potential to achieve great things. The world was effectively my oyster.

But it had been taken from me.

And now I’ve been thrown into limbo. A limbo where my degree is almost alien to me but I’ve now been left jaded by the career that I had fallen into. A limbo that is just pure darkness and fear.

My parents are trying to jazz it up as an opportunity for me to make a new start. The chance to figure out exactly what I want from my career. They are dressing it up as a stroke of luck that I get to reassess my career at such a young age. They keep saying that they wish they had the chance to do that when they were my age. The chance to reinvent themselves. I don’t remind them that the reason that they didn’t have a chance to do that is because they were starting a family. They just needed to know they had job security. Plus mum loved her job and dad stayed at home until we were old enough to be semi independent and could then just walk back into the workplace. I don’t have the heart to tell them that the job market game has changed since they last had to think about it.

I keep telling myself that tomorrow I’ll start figuring it out. I’ve been saying that for days now. I’ve made no attempt to do that. I’m telling people I’m doing it, because telling them the truth that I’m just becoming a blob is too depressing. If I could have it my way they wouldn’t’ve even known that I was unemployed but I made the stupid mistake of answering the phone to my brother at 3pm once, which I never do, and then that fed back to my parents because it’s so atypical of me and then it was confrontation time.

Then truth time.

And now darkness.

I’m a failure.

I lost my job and I don’t have a clue where to go from here.

lost my job…

sign off 2


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