The Tale of Mandalay, Part One: Before Ginormocorp

I have had, let’s say, a long and storied employment history.  In my younger years, it was dictated by boredom and lack of general life skills.  I did everything from cashiering at convenience and discount department stores to managing a dry cleaners to telemarketing to being a phone sex operator (I got fired for laughing too many times).  After much personal upheaval in the mid-to-late nineties, I began my road to adult respectability with a job as a file clerk for a credit reporting service in Lexington, Kentucky.  Since I actually knew the alphabet, the files were in order for perhaps the first time ever, which caught the attention of higher-ups.  I was offered a promotion to customer service rep.  I was surprised to learn that I was good at this, and thus began a pretty enjoyable two years.  I loved my job, my coworkers and immediate boss kicked ass, the VPs were cool and the office was plush. Continue reading “The Tale of Mandalay, Part One: Before Ginormocorp”

And so it begins

Exactly one month from today, I will lose my job.

It’s not an uncommon story these days, particularly for someone like me.  I’m a fifty-year-old woman who’s worked for fourteen years at a branch of one of the largest corporations in the world, a corporation so well known that if I mentioned the color with which it was associated, you’d immediately know it.  My title is “specialist” but I’m essentially a glorified data entry clerk.  Although I appreciate the money and other perks, I’d be the first to tell you that I’m grossly overpaid for what I do.  I did go to college, but I majored in heavy drinking and minored in dope smoking so I didn’t graduate, therefore I don’t have that all-important piece of paper that says I passed tests and was able to pay tuition.

Let’s recap–middle-aged woman with no degree and a semi-dead-end-but-decent-paying corporate clerical job, about to get shitcanned.

If your first thought was “God, you’re fucked,” I wouldn’t blame you.  In fact, it would surprise me if you thought anything else.  Under normal circumstances, yes, I’d be fucked.  Many of my soon-to-be-ex-coworkers are about to take it without lube, and if you pay even the slightest attention to the news these days you know that when a company does a layoff, it goes for the old folks first.

Note, however, that I said “under normal circumstances.”  As you will find out through this blog, my circumstances are not normal.  Yes, I am losing my job, but thanks to a lot of planning and a little luck, June first will be my departure from the corporate world.  Not only that, but I will be in the very fortunate position of being able to do a life reset.  Some would say it’s retirement, even.

I’m just saying freedom.