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These last two weeks have been incredibly difficult and painful in many ways. It’s hard enough to know that I was losing my job and my connection to all the coworkers and professional friends I’ve made over five years, but then to have to finish out two more weeks knowing that it’s all ending- at least in it’s current state. To have to go to work and continue to do the tasks that I had perfected and honed to a skill and know that the job was no longer mine. To pack up my personal, cheery, funny things, and cleanse my desk of myself. To go through files and folders and electronic data to see what’s superfluous and what’s necessary and know that whoever will be doing the work in future will do it a completely different way, maybe better, and I will no longer have impact or be instrumental in the procedure’s completion. It’s a hard thing.

I’m relieved to be able to lay aside the responsibility and the stress, but it really became a part of me. I was good at it. I coped. I managed stress. I kicked proverbial ass at my job. I knew it inside and out, backwards and forwards. And now, it’s no longer mine. I have to let it all go. It’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.

The most painful is saying goodbye to people. Professors, staff members, students, co-workers, friends, and mentors I’ll no longer see on a daily basis. And not being able to leave on my own terms. Knowing that life will go on without me, perhaps virtually the same. It’s the most difficult sort of change- cutting away a part of my life.

It’s not all negative. I’ve been shown a lot of love and warmth, respect and friendship, encouragement and fondness, over these last weeks. And I’ll be leaving a situation I can no longer stomach. Still- to leave what was and what might have been, it’s hard.

Also, not having a clear idea of where to go or what to do next is worrisome. I have dreams and aspirations, but no notion of how to pursue them. I don’t want to continue in fields unrelated to my true passions just to make ends meet, but that’s how life seems to work. And when you work so long and hard all day, it’s hard to find time, inspiration, and energy to pursue other interests. Most of the time I can’t even stay awake long enough to read for long. It’s all exhausting and mentally draining.

I would love to write. To find some meaningful writing job. I would enjoy editing. I would love to work with books, words, fresh, deep ideas. But then I remember that I live in podunksville and haven’t a penny to my name. *smirk*

Something will come up. I believe that this is just a transition to something new. I just don’t have a clue what that might be. A goal would give me something to press for.

These are my melancholy thoughts tonight. Hopeful sadness.

B

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