According
to the rumor mill at the office, today would be the lay-offs.
I had been stressed about this for long enough, I was kind of glad we were
finally getting to it.
I
dressed in all black for the occasion. I
also flushed the Xanax and sleeping pills down the toilet. I had taken one of each since I had the
prescriptions filled in Los Angeles . The sleeping pills didn’t seem to effect me much,
but the one time I took a Xanax at work, I ended up dancing with some
hoola-hooping girls in Times Square in front
of my office building. It felt really good, but
I’m not convinced that it counts because it was induced by a mind and
mood-altering drug.
So on
this Monday, I dressed in black and flushed the drugs. It’s just me and my higher power on this one. Untreated feelings can incite acts of self-destruction,
but feelings themselves won’t kill me.
I
went to work as usual, half-expecting at every step that my ID had been
deactivated, my email shut off and the
lock on my office changed. None of that
was the case, though, so I went to my first meeting.
After
that meeting, I left a message for one of my bosses. What should I do? I asked.
He replied: You have a meeting
scheduled tomorrow with HR.
I
spent the rest of the day talking to co-workers, speculating, spewing and
reassuring.
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