I lost my job.
My manager told me in the alleyway after my shift Friday night. He said that I had an attitude and was a negative presence on the floor, that I was hindering service. (That’s a load of baloney.) I could tell by the strained look in his face that he was just the bearer of bad news—and my sass was a better excuse than my nervous breakdown.
Right, about that— I had a nervous breakdown Tuesday morning at my job. I have narrated it in a separate blog post. I’ve mentioned my panic and nerves before, but I haven’t really gone in depth, because I don’t really know where to begin. If anything, I feel like most of it is self-imposed, I’ve prescribed to this sort of existential anxiety complex, where I overthink everything into oblivion. But I’ve never let it affect my workplace. I’m a good worker, I was even told so last week by the shift manager, but I was the weakest point and they took me out.
The owner is this German ex-marine who opened a Vietnamese restaurant because he liked the food when he was serving in the war. He calls the restaurant asking if we’re ready for battle. I just happened to be at the wrong spot at the wrong time mostly, and Tuesday morning I came in late. He gave me a second strike for it, even though I called.
Little injustices like this make me so mad that I boil over sometimes, in this unrequited, righteous indignation that bubbles out in tears. He triggered something, and I broke. My roommate, a veteran, told me that it was a classic marine move when I told him my misfortunes. The nervous breakdown was my third strike, and after experiencing so many emotions earlier on in the week, I just feel sort of numb to it all.
I’m not all that worried about being unemployed. A lot of my emotions have swept past me, and I’ve been able to think a lot and be content in my circumstances. My niece is coming in town tonight—she’s five and I only get to see her twice a year, so as far as I’m concerned this is good timing. And all my extended family is coming into town this weekend.
So I’m taking the week off. I’ve learned it is good to be content in all things—of course, I’ve only learned this after insanely obsessing over all the little details, driving mymself deeper and deeper into my own little cozy, deep, depressive hole.
And then sometimes you pause from digging, wipe the sweat from your brow, look up and see a blue circle way over your head, and it’s the sky, and it’s so damn beautiful, that you just sit down and sorta just look at this big blue circle of blue until you want it so bad that you climb out your hole to get a better view.
And from up here the hole is deep, and it seems silly that I burrowed my way down into it.
The air is so much fresher.
The view is so much better.
Over the Edge 