Let Go. Go On.

I have issues holding grudges, which I believe I've already covered in a previous post. Part of the whole job loss experience is learning how to let go, which I've been working hard to do. In my old office, I had a saying hanging on my bulletin board:

Let Go. Go On.

If I recall correctly, my mom sent me that saying after an epic break-up in 1998. Turns out, it applies to many things. And I keep saying it to myself as I navigate through the mess that was once my career. And as much as I want to proclaim "I'm over it!" I'm not quite there yet. Almost, but not quite. And the biggest thing keeping me from letting go and going on is the fact that so many people knew I was losing my job before I did. Now, the average person might think "oh, big deal," but to me it is a gigantic deal. It's been a friendship ender and a trust destroyer. And it's ruined my definition of loyalty.

However, the big picture is that in order to truly have peace and closure, I have to move on and let it go. On a side note, remember how Rachel on Friends made the word closure popular? I distinctly remember watching the episode in the Autumn Woods cracker box apartment in Indy in late 1995. It's the episode where Rachel gets drunk on a date and decides to call Ross to tell him she's over him and it goes like this: "I am over you. And that my friend, is what they call closure." Then the whole world started using the word closure... Oh, and ever notice how Friends doesn't quite stand the test of time like, say, Seinfeld?

So, as I was writing about how annoying and obnoxious it is that other people knew about my layoff before I did, I suddenly remembered a worse situation involving job loss:

When I was in 5th grade, my dad lost his job. We lived in Alabama at the time and my brother and I attended a Catholic school, which I wrote a post about a few months ago. So, it turns out that the nuns at the school knew my dad was losing his job before he knew. What?! How is that possible? Well, the HR manager at my dad's company, a super jerk with a bitchy wife to match, had a big mouth. He told his wife what was coming for my dad and the super bitch opened her big, fat trap and told anyone who would listen at the school. Mind you, this was a woman who once let her daughter eat a stick of butter for Thanksgiving dinner. Plus, she had a hideous Buffalo accent and a God-awful personality to match. Fran Miserable was her name, but not her real name, obviously. I can still picture her feathered, frosted hair and her absurd fur coat. What kind of moron wears a fur coat in Alabama? Hello, they don't even have winter in that state!

If I let go and go on, where the heck am I going? Wish I knew. I know where I'm not going: Crazy. Somehow, I've managed to stay sane through all of this insanity. If I let go and go on, can I still make India and Prison Media jokes? Can I go on without letting go? We shall see. Most importantly, will letting go make me sing "Free your mind and the rest will follow!" And for those of you who can't quite place that, here you go and you're welcome: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9tIYpvlQP_s