My Freaking Job Laid Me Off

Yes, unfortunately, you read that right.

This was not about anything I did, and I wasn’t the only one it happened to. I’m trying to be positive about it, y’all, but it absolutely sucks.

Pic of the emoji with a straight mouth and closed eyes, the one you use when something is so stupid you can't even.
This emoji.

I liked this job, and it paid enough for me to live here without worrying overtly about whether I could live here. Thanks to the Biden administration’s student loan forgiveness program (before SCROTUS canned it), I actually found myself with extra in my bank account.

I seriously lucked out finding my apartment from 1200 miles away, getting it in April and not August/Sept (typical apartment turnover time here because of all the universities), and having it right next to a bus stop with free, off-street parking (this right here is GOLD in Boston). Not to mention, I only pay for electricity and it’s so small it’s cheaper to heat and cool, much more than my drafty old albatross of a house.

A round-leafed cactus with bell-shaped pink flowers sits on a wide windowsill next to a window covered in bubble wrap to retain heat. Next to it is a round carved stone owl with yellow eyes and a tiny metal toy horse.
Easter cactus my neighbor gave me. Dresses up the place.

The work did not impact my LD and tasks I have difficulty with other than my timesheet and planning how long it would take to do certain things. I could work from home, go into the office three days a week to have my own desk, and I liked all my coworkers. It’s the only place I’ve ever been laid off from that I would go back to.

Thanks to budget cuts, now I have to start all over again. Much like the 2016 401K rollover from Exjob and the 2019 payout from the sale of my Missouri house, both of which long-term unemployment and Covid completely devoured, the extra in my account is not going to last long here. I have to find something good, and fast. As much as I love Boston, like all cities in this white supremacist, corporate oligarchical country, officials would rather harass and displace unhoused folks instead of addressing the issues that caused them to be unhoused in the first damn place. I do not wish to join them.

WBZ CBS News Boston arial screenshot of tents belonging to unhoused people at Massachusetts Avenue and Melnea Cass Boulevard in Boston, Massachusetts.
WBZ CBS News Boston arial screenshot of tents belonging to unhoused people at Massachusetts Avenue and Melnea Cass Boulevard in Boston, Massachusetts.

I know Boston is bigger than OldCity and NewerOldCity, and there are more jobs here, and unemployment in the state is low. But I’m still limited in what I can do because of my stupid LD.

We’re fortunate this state has a better support system than Missouri, which will be critical because of a potentially serious health issue. I’m not going into it now — I don’t have any information yet, or if it’s even a thing, pending a medical test. I’ve applied for MassHealth and, should I be approved, it will kick in when my employer-controlled insurance expires at the end of the month, before the medical test is scheduled.

Donald Trump, asshole supreme, looks into the camera with a self-satisfied smile while having dinner with Mitt Romney in 2016. Mitt is at right, his head turned and gives the photographer a very sheepish look.
I never thought I’d have anything to thank that suck-up Mitt Romney for, but here we are.

Am I whining? Yes.

Am I justified in whining? YES.

Am I going back to Missouri?  ABSOLUTELY NOT. I swore when I moved that this was it; I wasn’t going to move more than 20 miles again regardless of what happened. Besides, I like it here. There’s stuff to do, a lot of it free, and public transportation is a big plus. It’s by the sea, it’s packed with American history, AND there’s an Alamo Drafthouse. I decided I am going to see Deadpool & Wolverine anyway, although I might go to a regular theater instead so I won’t be tempted to spend $40 on food. Matinee tickets are usually cheaper.

And there’s this hilariousness (on the Green Line):

I don’t know why that’s so funny. It just is.

So I have to put my ass back out there. I will line up references — coworker said she would give me one, I have one in perpetuity from Toxic OldExJob, and my boss said she would give me a good one if anyone asks her. For what it’s worth, she did not look happy about the situation either.

Yesterday, I was numb. Today I’m angry and sad, and I feel like someone just broke up with me. (Also feeling mega petty—don’t expect me to be nice today.) I have to feel those feelings, and I’m going to indulge them for a short time. The rest of this week is not going to be good for much more than navigating the onerous bureaucracy of social support services.


I guess I have time to finish Book 3 now. But THIS IS NOT HOW I WANTED TO DO IT.

Here’s a start:

“It isn’t every day you travel through an engineered wormhole into another universe.”  
The imaginary documentary host in Hannah’s head, with her calm demeanor, perfectly coiffed hair, and ruffled blouse, brought to mind an unflappable elementary school teacher from some ancient 1980s sitcom. She turned to the old-fashioned green chalkboard behind her. Her cool voice continued, “Let’s examine this a bit more closely.”
The woman stretched a perfectly manicured hand above her head and pulled a large roller map down in front of the chalkboard. It showed nothing but a white square surrounded by blue ocean, a compass rose at top right. Ornate letters in the center of the square spelled out one word: 
UNKNOWN.