I've done this before, so let's just sign the papers mister

You know that scene in some movies, where people are running away from something, and as they're running, they are picked off one by one? That's kind of what work was like for the past week.

I got the bullet.

I think I'm more angry that I had to walk all the way across campus than I am about being let go, even. If you're going to lay someone off, at least walk over to them. They were nice. I'd been through this before. You sign a few papers saying you agree to be laid off and that you won't walk off with a computer, and they act really sad the whole time. Afterwards, I went back to pack up my stuff. It's always the same, too. You feel awkward, and try to make it less awkward, but it just is an awkward situation. Everyone says sorry, it's been nice, goodbye, and then you're walking to your car at 2:00 on a Thursday. Door closed.

I can't say that I'm sad, really. It was never the right fit and I knew that. The first time I was laid off (age 22, publishing co.), I got to a pretty low point. It took me five months to find another design job. As tough as that was (20 interviews, not enough experience), I realize how strong it made me. I'm ready this time, and I refuse to be that person again. I'm visiting my Grandma next week and I couldn't be happier. I'm going to spend time with my family, and maybe even work in some volunteer time.  I'm also (finally!yay!) going to get my yoga license and hopefully start teaching classes soon. I'm actually really excited about what's ahead, and no corporate desk job has made me feel alive, ever.

Tonight, though, I am taking a bubble bath and getting lots and lots of much needed sleep! Let the vacation begin.

*The due date for the first Caged Creatives project has changed. Projects are now due Friday, January 30. Thanks, and have fun!*

And then I caught a glimpse of myself

Sometimes you just have to take a step back and watch the world move around you for a while. It's so easy to get caught up in your own little rhythm that you don't realize that the beat has changed. Life doesn't let you ignore it for very long.

I spent my weekend getting everything in order for the "what if" right around the corner. I got Doctor appointments taken care of (and by the way, you definitely can give yourself a 2nd degree burn with a curling iron), brushed up on my unemployment options (I have only been with Sexy Co. for 12 weeks), and worked on my website some more (optimizing jpegs, slices, xhtml, oh my). I also spent time with people that don't allow self pity or illusions, thankfully. There's a strange sense of calm. Maybe it's all too familiar, maybe I realize all too well that there are bigger problems out there, or maybe I am lucky enough to finally get that things really are going to be okay, regardless.

Sometimes we lose the things we need. We can lose our faith, love, people that we depended on the most. Sometimes we lose the things we didn't need, like our lifestyles or our stuff. Sometimes we get the two confused. I'm beginning to think that the worst case scenario might not be that bad, and that maybe my rhythm isn't that great. 

Just embrace it

I know this movie is older, but I came across this while doing some research this evening and was reminded of how much I love, love, love the visuals. It's dark - embrace it.

Who wrote that line, anyway?

Today I decided that there was nothing sexy or casual about layoffs. This is also true about wind chills of -25. Put the two together and you have a really bad Friday.

We were all called into the meeting area and informed that our company was going to "restructure", and that we would emerge a "stronger and better company". Who, exactly, are those words supposed to make feel better? As we left for lunch, a guy walked in front us carrying his box of stuff. What a long walk.

There is an art to the whole layoff process. I've had three jobs and so far, two (going on three?) have ended in layoffs (or the nearness of layoffs). I can tell you the lines you will hear from your boss, the different ways it might happen. There is the look you get when people find out and say they are sorry, and then there is the look you get when people find out and don't know what to say. Afterwards, time moves in weird segments: the first hour spent dazed and angry, the first morning you sleep in and feel optimistic, the first week of freedom. After that, the three week cycle: week one is bliss, week two is determination, week three is despair. Repeat that for a few months and then see how you feel.

For the next two weeks, we have to just wait for them to get to our building and then our department. Quite frankly, I'm the newest and most likely to go. I'm okay with that, though. I don't have kids, or car payments, or any other responsibilities that I can't handle. I've done this before, I can do it again. It's not fun, but things like this almost always lead to better things. So, best of luck to everyone out there - to those holding to what they've got and to those grasping for the next thing.

Sometimes you know right away how a day is going to go. Say for instance that your car doors freeze open. After ten minutes of unsuccessful thuds and a latch that refuses to catch, you realize that not only are you late, you are going to have a long walk from your distant parking space.

Or maybe you walk in the door to be greeted by the following sentences, back to back, from your boss:

"I can't believe I have to come in to work and listen to f*ing Ricky Martin." Ricky Martin sings in disbelief about La Vida Loca from the speaker above."I dance naked to Bob Seger." You don't even have to question that. You definitely don't want to think about it. You just know that maybe tomorrow will be better.

You have to laugh at life. You can analyze it, and complain about, and try to figure it out, but in the end it's still going to be moving forward. I've had in depth conversations with a lot of people this week, only to realize that none of us know what we are doing. We are trying really hard to figure it out, but we are just making guesses and empty plans for the most part. In the meantime, we work, shop, run on treadmills three times a week, quote t.v. shows, and eat out in cool restaurants to give this time some definition.

Every yoga teacher I have ever known has always loved their job. They sacrifice things like convenience and money because they love it so much. I have a friend who works at a nursery. She lifts trees and works in the rain, and she loves it. Another friend worked several part time jobs so that she could dance. Working in a coffee shop was probably my favorite job thus far. On the other side, I have plenty of friends who make good money and hate the 8-12 hours they spend working in their office every day. Oh wait, that's what I am doing. But why? Because money is so great? Sure it offers tons of benefits, no question. At the end of the day, though, it's just something to get rid of. Those of us in the office jobs define ourselves by how we spend our money more than we define ourselves by our passions, it seems. Maybe we have lost our passions while we have been saving up for our glorious futures.

I've been really challenged by this lately.  Maybe it will mean everything, maybe it will mean nothing. Even if it isn't always a dream, life is moving forward and it's completely absurd and funny most of the time.

Check it: Song of the week.(Thanks, Tracey!) Playlist coming soon...

Also, check out these quotes from My Dinner with Andre - one of the strangest and best movies I've seen.

I'll just sit at the kids' table

Despite my weekend of enjoyed seclusion, I did venture out for a few social events. It seemed like the healthy thing to do at the time, and it's hard to explain to people that you have no plans but no, you don't want to hang out.

I watched Baby Mama one night (don't judge me) and it was a strange night. My wardrobe matched Tina Fey's almost exactly. She was a single working woman, content to be single. And the kicker? I had just had the conversation the night before about how it has been my plan to start the adoption process at age X with or without Mr. Man. I was unsettled, and then the weekend came.

On Friday night I went to a casual get together with about 20 friends. These are great people and I am thankful to have them in my life. That said, the only other single girl in the place was a sophomore in college. In that house full of people my age, everyone was in some state of engagement bliss, honeymoon bliss, marital bliss, child bearing bliss, or the bliss of being the wise one who is out of bliss mode and can offer sage advice to those following. I listened to honeymoon stories ("...and then they pulled him up on stage to hula dance!"), baby stories ("he's doing the funniest thing right now"), pregnancy stories (there were three pregnant girls, so I don't even know which blip would be best here), and I left in the midst of ultrasound stories and how to work and be a full time mom.

The next day, I went to a friends' wedding, where I ran into all of my married college friends. The singles list is ever so short now. I can provide a full rundown of wedding types, music, pictures, slideshow ideas, food options, and activities to provide during the reception. For what it's worth, my wedding is going to be awesome (namely because I plan on eloping).

I am not jealous. I am not sad, or lonely. I do not hate men. I am not hunting. I think this throws people off. They pat me on the back and tell me that I will find "him" soon". Here's the thing: I am happy! I am okay! I enjoy being single right now! There is still so much out there for me to do and see. When Mr. Man comes along, great. Until then, there is plenty of life to enjoy.

I am thrilled for my happily married friends, and I am cool to talk about all of the parts of their married, babied life (seriously, I love your kids). That said, I have very little to offer to group ultrasound conversations. Maybe my life will end like every cliche chick flick where Independent Single Woman is swept off her feet in the last twenty minutes, right before she gives up completely and returns to her empty apartment and ice cream. Maybe I too will join in on the ultrasound fun. Until then, I will be continue to be fine, and I guess I will eat at the kids' table.

"...held breath is the ultimate withholding; you're not taking anything in, you're not putting anything out."

--Ann Lamott

I have spent the past two days in a self-induced exile from reality. This has included sleeping in, baking, reading magazines, watching movies, and watching the rest of season one of Pushing Daisies. I stayed in my pajamas all day on Thursday, which is just as rare for me as sleeping in. 

I do not enjoy being lazy. I don't like sleeping in because I feel like I have lost an enjoyable and important part of my day. I don't like crashing on the couch for hours because usually, nothing productive comes from it. I like to be dressed, even if I'm not going anywhere. I like to feel like I have used my time and lived it.

These past two days have been about recharging. When I tense up or get too busy or lose myself a little too much, I hold my breath (literally and figuratively). I go on a mental autopilot. It becomes harder for me to really invest in relationships and give people the time and energy they deserve. My creativity levels hit rock bottom, and the motivation levels take an equally hard hit. I think a lot of us kind of go around in this stage and I think our culture makes it easy to exist this way for quite a while. We are neither giving or taking.

Inspired by the creativity of others (Pushing Daisies is one of the smartest, most creative things I've seen in a while)(Tina Fey has a nice way of balancing dry humor), I feel like I can breathe a little easier. For instance, I have rediscovered a few things that I really like: very certain shades of green, vintage dresses, dark red lipstick, really dark, dry, biting humor, patterns, fixing botched recipes, being on "the career track" and not "the marriage track" at the moment, being girly now and then, black and white films, friendly strangers, simplicity.

These past two days have also been a wake up call. It's time to snap out of autopilot and, as my friend would say, own it. Own all of it. My quirks, loves, and flaws. Then, do something with those things. Share them, use them, make something with them. Write more, paint more, bake more, love more, rest more, breathe more.

Check it: 

Malin + Goetz Peppermint Bar Soap

Aveda Clove Shampoo

No Pudge Fudge Brownies

Bon Iver (Skinny Love!)