Boy, I’m glad that’s over. October, I mean.
The days grow shorter and cooler, but they’re also tinged with sadness. What other month does that, makes us sad? None. November is a Trojan horse; you don’t know what’s in store. December through February are tests of endurance, pure and simple. March and April bring the welcome, soggy relief called springtime. But May, aah, it’s a glory to behold. Ditto for the summer months.
October, though, pulls the rug out from under you. It triggers a wistfulness I can’t explain and don’t understand. All I know is the world turns topsy-turvy. Life goes from shorts and flip-flops to a jacket and corduroys almost overnight. The air grows still and hushed. And I wind up discombobulated, totally lost and forlorn.
But you know what? I’m walloped with the exact same sadness when I watch To Kill a Mockingbird. Now, I’m not from Alabama or the Depression era, my father wasn’t Gregory Peck, nor was I the ham in a school play. But I’m sad and homesick after I watch that movie. The fact I’m at home is irrelevant, apparently. So what’s the deal?
Well, I think I miss being a kid. I miss the boundless enthusiasm and the sense of wonder and the endless curiosity. I miss having a lap to crawl into and being loved so fiercely. I miss having my big worry be getting caught running with scissors. Most of all, I miss having the freedom and courage to follow my heart.
So this morning I did that, I followed my heart; I walked off my job. I say ‘job’, but it was more like work release. I was scrutinized and monitored and evaluated and written up and reviewed daily — for a minimum wage job stuffing envelopes. I didn’t commit a felony, I didn’t work for the NSA, I stuffed envelopes. Past tense.
My misdeed? Drinking coffee. That was secretly added to a long list banning music and bluetooth devices and cellphones and earphones, you’re not to talk to co-workers or wear a hood or use that door or walk there or think for yourself. Prisons are more freewheeling.
So I stood up, grabbed my coffee, and said, ‘Why don’t I just go?’ And I went. I’m, at last, breathing the air of freedom. I can walk with my head up, for the moment at least.
Wish me luck in my new job search. Oy.
Copyright © 2014 Publikworks
the whirly girl 
20 responses to “: farewells and adioses :”
As soon as the chill of Autumn is in the air, I am introspective, and sad. It’s a double edged sword, because I’m also highly sensitive and emotional; my senses are super charged, and reactive. It is a love/hate relationship. Like all relationships, I guess.
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You’re one of those multi-layered, interesting types, aren’t you, Ivy? Not me. I’m as simple as they come. I don’t like anything associated with winter — including Shelley, but not Jonathan.
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Totally get it. Best of luck on the next thing.
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Thank you so much, Sam. The next one can’t be as bad. It just can’t.
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Anyone who writes this well should be doing more than stuffing envelopes. Bravo for your courage. Where is your ‘farewell’ image from? I love it.
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My big fear is stuffing envelopes might be the best I can do. Hopefully somewhere else. But thanks for the compliment, Angela, you’ve made my day.
An art director friend found the image in an old book, I think. It’s great, isn’t it?
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Good for you leaving the prison called a crappy job. Remember by leaving this behind you will now give yourself the chance to see & seize other opportunities that may have passed you by otherwise. Sometimes in life we have to do what scares us in order to find that which fills us with passion and a love for life. I realize none of this helps provide a meal but hopefully a little positive will go a long way :-)
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Thanks, a little positive does, indeed, go a long way. I don’t feel like such a dope for leaving, either. That’s worth a ton. :o)
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Nice. I love that rush of freedom that comes from assessing your situation and saying “to hell with this.” Nothing like it.
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I’ve got to admit, it’s a rush. Reality will set in tomorrow, Friday at the latest, and ruin my weekend, though. Say, is Walmart hiring?
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Hooray for walking away from crappy jobs. And hey, even if you do end up selling pencils from a tin cup, at least you’ll be your own boss.
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And selling my own pencils. Then how will I do my posts? Aye-yi-yi, I’m doomed.
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I’m just the opposite. I love the months of October and November because they bring cold with them. I love cold. It’s March and April that get me weepy.
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Wow. You might be the first person I’ve ever heard say they love cold. I’m awestruck. And speechless …
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Unfortunately I seem to be the happiest and most confident when everyone else around me is the gloomiest. It’s not a GREAT quality I realize, but it’s a quality nonetheless.
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I love unique and you are. Different is good, it takes courage and I salute you. This is me saluting /:o)
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November is my weepy month. I have a really hard time shaking it off.
So, off you went… just like that. I applaud you for taking that step out the door. I know there are better things ahead for you. You just needed the freedom to find them.
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I wish I shared your optimism. I’m pretty confident I’m headed for disaster and a tin cup. I’ll wind up selling pencils, I’m sure of it — but that’s better than taking abuse from megalomaniacs. I hope.
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Pencils are great! I love pencils. I use them all the time. Pens just leave me wanting a pencil. It could work. ;-)
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And I have a huge inventory already on hand. Boxes and boxes of Ticonderoga 2s. For a supplemental income I could sell the Mars Plastic erasers I have in stock!
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