One iPod, One Job, One iPad, One Problem

This past Friday was the one-year anniversary of my layoff, a happy day forever remembered as “No iPod, No Job, No Boyfriend, No Problem.”

Net value one year later: Not only do I have a job, live in a new state, and have an iPod, I also have an iPad (that my boss refers to as my boyfriend). Seriously–could there be a happier ending to this story?

Of course, the reality is, there is no ending. As my yoga teacher said yesterday, life is a pulse and pausing is actually the hardest part. Something like a layoff is a big enough pause that you can’t ignore it. The challenge is to take on the pauses even when you need to spend most of your life speeding. (And you should be tweeting/emailing/counting/pushing now instead of writing this blog post.)

When I was laid off, I nothing to lose. It was easy to say “Life is a transition!” and “There’s no there, there.” Now that I’m back in a position with everything to lose, it’s hard work to make peace with the fact that there’s no there here, either.


3 thoughts on “One iPod, One Job, One iPad, One Problem

  1. Well…this certainly feeds into my angst over our governor's “Government Reset” proposals this week. I admire his leadership during a tough economic time, but the fact is that my husband's job is endangered along with many others. We're hoping he's one of the lucky ones who keeps the position and “only” has to pay insurance and retirement costs out of the paycheck, which would mean $5,000-6,000 less annually. Bullets are really hard to bite, don't you know?!

  2. I lived in an expensive room with bare walls, a bare lightbulb and a bare mattress on the floor next to the backpack which held all my belongings for about three months in the mid-80's, having dropped out of college and flown out to San Francisco to be a hippie and follow the Grateful Dead. Certainly, the long haired addicts and scammers on Haight Street taught me everything I needed to know about how wide the gulf was between my idealistic 60's dream and my stark 80's reality.

    It often occurs to me that the bigest problem I have with writing is my desire for success/fear of failure. If I could just do it to do it, contacting editors, agents and publishers would not longer be so terrifying.


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