I love the 1930s. The movies, the music, the literature. And now I am living the 1930s. Because an economic crisis caused me to get laid-off from my work this week.
Yes, that’s correct. I’m making a rare foray into “personal info” to tell all my dedicated readers that, after a six year stretch, I am once again among the unemployed.
It happened on Tuesday. I simply didn’t feel like telling anyone about it at the time. Instead I inflicted an immense review of the history book Public Enemies on my small coterie of readers. But the event was not a surprise to me. I had expected something like it to happen during the last three months. The economy isn’t in the most robust shape (although I see some evidence of improvement), and when you work for a commodities firm, you know that downsizing is inevitable. Especially in a branch office. I knew in December that time was running out… and also that I needed the change and should start looking into getting back into teaching. That won’t make for the easiest task, but six years is the longest I’ve stayed at any job, so I needed a forced change.
Plus, my employers gave me three months severance pay. The generosity of this absolutely floors me. I didn’t love my job (that’s an understatement), but in the end the people who employed me were more than fair. I respect that. Actually, and I told this to my boss, it was touching.
Now… onto the next phase of life.
Or teaching English and History.
(Sorry, my love of the 1930s got the best of me there.)