I Am Bee-Hind

Do I need to update? You betcha. Do I have the time? Not so much. Work is deliciously busy, the summer move #2 is imminent and grad school gallops closer.

Yikes.

You're Not a Chubby, Greasy, Poorly Dressed Person!

Came back to work on Monday. Same building, sitting one floor down. It's funny - when people first saw me, particularly if they didn't know I was coming back, they all said the same thing: "You look good!"

Even better was how most people I took by surprise said it: "You look...good..." As if, they were really blown away I maintained a standard of physical decency. The surprise in their voices pretty much said: "Huh. You didn't go off the deep end after being let go. Well done!"

Other frequently heard comments:

• "Your hair got long!" Well, that happens after four months, I suppose.
• "You look so well rested!" Yep. I've been sleeping about 10 hours a day for quite some time.
• "You are tan!" Well, let's just say that after confirming my new employment, I didn't spend my days inside.
• "You've lost weight!" Hm...perhaps five pounds, perhaps the all-black shirtwaist dress. I won't tell you which.

Don't get me wrong, I can be told how great I look all day long, but I just particularly enjoyed the tone of astonishment in people's voices. I suppose people do go off the deep end after being laid off - that's why I had to get a drug test.

Last Day of Unemployment...

...and I wish I could say I was going out with a bang, but that's just not the case. Why, you ask? Well, largely because I didn't get around to finishing my Loyola essay earlier this week. Why, you ask? Well, kids, the best laid plans... My intention was to wrap it up yesterday afternoon. That was until John called to inform me we needed to be out of our apartment by September 30. Please note, we moved in June 1. Whaaaaaa....?

They are converting our rental building into condos, and this requires a major gut rehab. If you've seen our place, you know. I love living here (or, rather, I loved) but it's not the kind of place you buy, unless you're cool with a dishwasher circa 1979 and windows so thin the trains on the L set your schedule. But, our sweet management company did a bang-up job of under- and mis-communicating the situation to us, since we first received a notice saying the building is going condo (good luck with that), but our lease will be honored. Several more follies ensued, but I'll spare you the details.

We didn't go overboard purchasing decor for the apartment, but Home Depot got some serious cash out of us as we built a custom microwave shelf, added hanging bars to closets and assisted in preserving the structural integrity of this building. Add to that moving expenses, man-hours cleaning the place (ever seen black mop water with nail clippings in it? Yea, that bad), and an army of friends who carried our crap (Tom has a very strict one move, per friend, per year policy, as he told us already) and it's just plain annoying that MTD Management doesn't believe they owe us financial recourse. We'll see, my friends, we'll see.

Tangent aside, today, last day of unemployment, will be spent finessing an essay. Then on Monday, I return to work. I don't know where I am sitting. I'm not sure what my title is. But, I think I know to whom I report. Small victories, big dance.

In the end, I guess the joke is on the former company. They generously gave me three months' severance, laid four and half months of unemployment on top of that, and now, the prodigal daughter returns. It would have been a bit more fun for me had I known the ending, but I guess that spoils the plot, doesn't it? It's been fun. And emotional. And stressful. And educational. And I think I need to share my learnings with others. So, the plan is to try and write a short book on what to do when you're laid off. We'll see if it makes it past the idea stage.

You Can't Go Home Again...

...But, apparently, you can move in next door.

I just found out that I will officially be reporting to my old group, (thus, my former boss) when I return to work on Monday. Thrilling news (I loved reporting to Leslie and greatly respect the work of the team), but it certainly threw me for a loop.

When I was let go, I pined so deeply to return to my old company, my old group, my old desk (check out this entry) I actually inhibited my own forward progress. I probably spoke to too many former colleagues about too much work stuff, too often and wanted so desperately to be part of this fantastic group again, I got myself in a knot. The only way to move on was to really let go.

That didn't mean not speaking to these people anymore; that would have been nearly impossible - they are my work family. But I did release any hope of being part of the team and I moved forward, feeling healthier all the while.

Now, I am heading back, reporting to the same person but doing very different work. We'll call it returning to the neighborhood. Well, I can't mull over the situation too long, I suppose, as I have been known to be a tad analytical (I can see my girlfriends rolling there eyes right now) - okay, yes, chronic over analyzer here. Today's' college dating patterns will turn any gal into a damn gumshoe. I digress. Familiarity will bring some comfort while I work out new challenges. In the meantime, I need to get a drug test.

What is that? You must pee in a cup? Indeed. Since I have been gone from the company more than three months (ahem, whose fault is that, ahem) they want to make sure I haven't gone off the deep end, blowing coke and rockin' the gange. No, no, dear company, my dismissal only led to a few too many happy hours and three packs of cigarettes.