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The Unemployment Diary Part 6: What is Time, Anyway?

Friday, July Something

Well dear reader, it has finally happened. After being unemployed since March 3, I have finally snapped my cap, gone ‘round the bend, bought a ticket for the Up With People Concert, and begun wearing traffic cones on my head as cutting-edge fashion. What I mean to say is that I’ve caught the disease reserved for the elderly, the insane and individuals without access to a Gregorian Calendar. 

The Unemployment Diary Part 5: First You Say it, Then You Do it

It was waiting downstairs.

As you probably have learned from hard-won experience, dear reader, the things that blindside you and alter the course of your life (and not in a good way), the horrific things, don’t come accompanied by a dramatic swell of orchestral music and terse lines of movie script. There aren’t any vampires coming in through the windows at 1 a.m. No, the horrors pop up unheralded on a sunny, ordinary Wednesday morning out of a clear blue sky. 

The Unemployment Diary Part 1: The Aftermath

Recently (so recently, most of my co-workers are blissfully unaware) I have been let go, terminated, been hit by the Big Ugly Axe, sacked.

Dear Reader, for your amusement, while I am still giddy over the prospect of getting to stay home and confident about my ability to land another situation making more money and with more prestige and better benefits, I’ve elected to journal my experiences. I think it will be a fun experience and educational for other middle-aged men who will then be energized and encouraged to lose their jobs as well. Hell, maybe we can form regional and national clubs (like Skid Row in Los Angeles and the Bowery in NYC). At the very least, this will make a fun suicide note.