Monday, October 4, 2010

Seize the Fish

Sometimes, the universe (or God or fate or whatever) has a way of deciding things for us. When I really think about it, easily 75% of my life has happened by accident. I met my husband because I decided, on a whim, to blow off my American History exam and go out dancing during finals week. I became a teacher because my Intro to Speech class was filled with kids that scared the piss out of me so I transferred to another class. One taught by a teacher who changed my life. My daughter, whom I adore, came a year early.

I may like to pretend I'm driving this thing, but in reality I'm just holding onto the steering wheel praying I don't crash.

This became uber-clear to me earlier today when I realized that I'm losing my job.


I've been in denial for weeks (okay, months) but now...well let's just say that there's nothing quite like a fish in the face to wake you up to reality. Metaphorically speaking, I mean.

I watched something on TV once about this place somewhere out west (Seattle maybe?) where there's this big fish market. The guys throw the fish all over the place, catching them and wrapping them up to sell. Apparently it's really something to see. I think there's a book about it too. That's the kind of job where there's never any question about your performance. You catch the fish or the fish hits you. Immediate feedback. If the fish hits you too many times, well, then I guess you're looking for a job.

I thought I'd been catching those fish quite nicely and passing them along with speed and accuracy. Apparently my fish are irrelevant though. They aren't so much necessary in the larger scheme of things. So now I have to figure out what to do next. The Badass thing to do is pretty much NOT to cry. Right? crying. Check. Also no breaking things. Got it. I suppose a Plan B would be a good idea. But otherwise? Eh.

So Carpe Diem, I guess. I'll seize this day- or this fish- and I'll do something with it. But I think I'll do it later. Right now, I think I want to go to bed. Can retreat be Badass? I certainly hope so- 'cause I've got nothing to fight this fight with right now.


  1. Oh sweetie, I'm so sorry. I think it's totally badass to know that there's a time to cry, or to rail at the heavens or decline certain activities like the highly overrated "getting out of bed". It's badass to do what you've got to do, regroup, then do what needs to be done.

    PS -- my verification word is "Choscist". Nonsense I know, but I am going to adopt it as my new identifier. What are your political/religious/philisophical views, Sus? Why, I'm a Choscist, isn't that obvious? I think this will come in very handy. Thank you Blogger!

  2. Retreat can be Badass, because it means you're gathering resources to fight another day.

    Hang in there, kiddo; joblessness is scary. But since you've done pretty well so far with random coincidences, surely you'll find yourself running into a great opportunity next time you randomly decide to visit the farmer's market. And because fortune favors the well-prepared--and you are nothing if not well-prepared--you will knock their socks off.

    I don't know if any of that made sense. But I believe in you.

  3. Thanks ladies. It's amazing what 12 hours of sleep, a cup of tea and 12 oreo cookies will do for my outlook on life.

  4. Thanks so much for sharing your blazing Badass discomfort, fears and hoplessness that turned to a better day the next morning! It's VERY Badass to get your fears, tears, and unstoppable need to just laydown and sleep everything away out of your system in words and chocolate. Then get up with just enough UMMMPH to make it one more day :) It's what I do and a wise woman once told me that she LOVES everything I do! (although sometimes I think she's a little blind)