Permanent Vacation

Relief. That has been the overwhelming feeling in this first week of unemployment. Relief and disblief. Somewhat like waking up from a long and tedious dream in which you have been a captive. A captive of corporate America, toiling for men whose faces you know only through company newsletters in which they tell you that while you are one of the lucky that still have a job, you will now be doing the jobs of the unlucky in addition to your own. And no, there will be no merit increases this year. Silly of you to ask.

And lest you think that I became one of the unlucky. . . . I should let you know, I quit. After twelve years with my company and weeks of deliberation and budgeting and bouts of anxiety, Damonn and I took a giant leap of faith and told The Man to shove it. We became a single-income family. And while I should not claim victory before the entire month's bills have arrived, I must admit there is a certain strength in doing something not entirely common-sense. For once in our lives.

So begins a new chapter. The fourth chapter in my life as I see it. The one where the fair lady returns home to tend to her husband and family and life. . . . . and mabye even herself.