I remember what it was.

The comment about it being easier for singles to be laid off came after the woman's statement that people who are single should be laid off before people who have families. I'm serious. Apparently other people's families are my responsibility, and I'm obligated to give up my job, which I've earned and which I'm good at, for them. I should have suggested that single people who are laid off be supported by people who are married, and gotten her address for my next mortgage payment.

Can I say "I Told You So"?

Met some former coworkers last night (someone arranged a get-together; I went out of good sportsmanship but really, I've already moved on, I don't really care what the gossip is, or what people are doing. It's bit scary to see how much of their personal lives people's jobs make up.)

It's boring.

The one amusing thing I heard is that people are already freaking out about how to do my job, and one of the accountants has been calling around to see whether anyone knows how I did what I did. Someone mentioned that it was good that I'd left people my home number.


"Oh, no," I said. "That was for personal use only. No calls about work. I don't work there any more. They were all fine letting me be the only person who knew what was going on, and dumping all their crap on me. If they call, I will simply read them the Disclosure Under Title 29 U.S. Code Section 626(f)(1)(H) that was provided to me with my severance letter: 'Employees who possessed the performance record, skills, abilities, background, experience, conduct, leadership, education and/or knowledge necessary to fill the remaining positions after the Company's elimination of forty-seven positions due to economics were not selected for termination.' Since I was laid off, according to this definition, those left are capable of doing my job. So let them. If the company had given me 30 days to transition, I would have, because I don't like to see anyone struggle. But they didn't, and I'm just as happy to not have to deal any more. If their underestimation of what I did bought me my freedom, well hallelujiah."

My ex-boss had phoned me before I left and said something nice: "On my resume I put that I got the draw process running efficiently and smoothly. I sort of did; I hired you."

I'd laughed and told him he could take whatever credit he wanted as long as we weren't up for the same job.

What do you do when you get laid off? Get drunk at a train station. Of course.

Went in to my former employer yesterday to drop off my signed severance agreement and say goodbye to people. More layoffs had been going on, so I found out which of my co-workers were being let go. They were wiping out entire departments. Two women who'd been laid off decided to go out for a drink so we headed across the street to the local watering hole. It being only 11 am, it wasn't open yet.

"Man, are they losing out on a great opportunity today," I said.

We decided to head to Union Station; there is a bar in there, apparently, and it would allow the other two to be close to their trains.

We took a small table and announced to the bartender that we were there to celebrate being laid off. Several people at the bar toasted us, and one guy told us he'd been laid off four weeks ago.

"And you're still here?" I asked.

The former Manager, B, bought a pitcher of Miller Lite.

"Um..I'm not that much of a drinker..." I said. And I had a glass before me.

The Manager, B, proceeded to get trashed, and was hilarious. Happily married with two kids, she was flirting with guys as they walked by (the bar is in the corridor of the station - think airport bar), and having a generally good time.

The other girl, L, texted A, a former member of their department who'd been laid off in the second round, to tell her what was going on. They then called the Environmental team, with whom their department had worked (and who had not been laid off), and the four of that group joined us for a drink an hour later. One of the members is J, a guy who is slightly phobic about being touched, so of course, I gave him a big hug and kiss, which one of the others captured on his camera phone.

The bartender announced that A had called in and was buying a round of shots for everyone. Someone suggested something called a Buttery Nipple, and we all had a delicious combo of butterscotch schnapps and Bailey's. MMMM.

I'd been encouraging the other two laid-offers to look at this as an opportunity to make a new, fresh start, referencing Sex and the City (a quote by Elizabeth Taylor - "now is the time for guts and guile" inspired Charlotte out of a post-miscarriage depression, and I repeated it liberally.)

The Enviro manager, who is married with two children, apparently interpreted my optimism and cheerleading as an indication that losing my job in a recession won't really affect me. She announced that it was easier to be laid off if you were single. She caught my eye and repeated it, defensively "Well, it's true - it is easier."

I have a mortgage, property insurance, credit cards, hospital bills, dental bills, and all the ills that befall everyone else. But I'm the only one who pays these: my one income. Yes, I have flexibility, but it's not so much because I'm single, it's because I didn't build my entire life and debt on the premise that my income and situation would never change. I could have bought a larger, more modern condo. I could have a dishwasher, deck, in-unit washer and dryer, a dedicated parking space. And I could be freaking out right now about paying the mortgage.

I looked at the Enviro manager. "Well, I think it's a bit of a wash. You have less flexibility when you have a family, yes, but I don't have the possibility of a second income to fall back on to buffer the loss."

She agreed. Gosh, thanks for acknowledging that losing 100% of my household income (which is easily a third of hers) is a bit of a challenge.

They left; B went from happy drunk to teary maudlin drunk to rowdy drunk, announcing to me loud enough for the entire station to hear that she was going to find me a man.

"I'M GETTING YOU SOME DICK!" she crowed.

Guts. And Guile.

AAAAnd she's off!

The Board met today, so my co-worker M and I were waiting all day, hoping we wouldn't have to wait another day to get the news. I kept going downstairs, but they had adjourned so I just ate some of the leftover pesto pasta salad in the executive kitchen.

We got the word right at quitting time. The HR manager came to my desk and asked whether he could have a word.

"Honey, this will be the easiest speech of this kind that you will deliver," I grinned at him.

So he nicely went over the terms of my severance, which were better than I had thought they'd be. And hey, the Stimulus Plan has 70% of COBRA charges covered by the government. I LOVE THIS PRESIDENT.

So I'm going in tomorrow to tie up a very few loose ends; tonight, M and I put all the collected plants in the kitchen with a sign saying, "LAYOFF ORPHANS -- PLEASE GIVE A GOOD HOME." Because it was the end of the day, most everyone had gone, and we walked through the halls with the plants, laughing.

"I think we are hands-down the happiest people ever to be laid off from this place," I said.

We gathered up our things. M had a few bags full of personal belongings; I had one bag and two plants that I'd kept. In other words, we had LOST THEIR JOBS pasted across our foreheads. In the crowded elevator, people averted our eyes.

"HEY M! GUESS WHAT I GAVE UP FOR LENT! MY JOB!" I called out. And we started laughing all over again.

Swing!

Yesterday was the last class of my second 4-week swing lesson. We all headed over to Fizz afterward for the Monday Swing Dance and Level I Swing graduation.

I danced with some of my classmates; we hung together. When you're a novice, you tend to be insecure about your abilities with an unknown partner. One of my classmates is a good leader, and we did pretty darn well. Another classmate and I danced - he's fun, but he whips me at arm's length all over the place, so there were a few unfortunate collisions on the crowded floor. It was fun nevertheless, and I learned that I'm not a bad dancer! There were lots of really experienced dancers, including those doing the Holy Grail of swing: Lindy Hop. One of the guys runs the Swingers Ball, and he and his partner were amazing to watch. I have to get through two more Level 2 swing lessons before I can take Lindy, and I can wait, because I'm so not ready.

I want to try and organize some practice sessions during the week with some classmates; dancing the steps alone to "Ain't Nobody Here But us Chickens" over and over isn't getting me as far along as I'd like, and the cats find it bizarre.

Exit. Expendable. Ecstatic!

A co-worker who has connections approached me on Friday to tell me confidentially that we are among those slated for the next layoff this week.

"Really?" My grin was ear-to-ear. I noticed her glum expression and remembered that there are people who, despite stress-induced illness and a general dissatisfaction with their work, still prefer the unpleasant they know to any change.

I spent the day singing and being in the best mood. Of course I couldn't say why. I called SP to whisper the news:

"I'm being laid off in about a week."

silence.

"You are so jealous," I whispered.

"I'm so jealous," he acknowledged.

By knowing ahead of time, I can get things in some order to make the inevitable chaos that will ensue less of a nightmare for those left behind. I can also start transporting home the small jungle of desk plants left behind by others laid off before me. As I dealt with piles of paperwork and file-uploading, I kept thinking, "I won't have to do all this in a little while. I won't have to worry about chasing down some final lien waiver. I won't have to send a gajillion reminder emails about quarterly accruals to people whose estimates will be a half-million-dollars off. I. won't. have. to deal. period."

I smiled all through the phone call about title insurance and recorded subdivision surveys and parcel sizes. I will never again have to repeat that I don't make those decisions or have the information they need to reach a conclusion.

My purported severance check will not be huge, but it will be. I don't know about health benefits and of course can't ask for details, because I'm not supposed to know.

If there is one thing I do know about, though, it's starting over. I've had enough changes in my life that this is just one more. I've known people who were laid off; they either responded by facing their situation and finding ways to pay the bills (one friend worked several jobs including part-time at a Target), or they get all undone. I'm thankful that I'm not afraid of uncertainty.

Yesterday I broke the news to the 13-year-old intern, telling her I'd make sure she had someone new to report to, giving her a big hug and telling her how proud I am of her and how much I enjoyed working with her.

"I don't want to cry," she said, her pink lip-gloss trembling.

I promised her I'd email her my personal information if she ever needed a reference, and for her to drop me a note from time to time to let me know how she'll be doing.

Today I told the boy. He looked stunned, and I felt terrible. I was reminded how hard it is for goodbyes at that age; I'm used to them, and have had a lot of change; they take it much harder. I promised him he'd be fine.

I'm really going to miss them; they rock out loud. They are a combination of adorable and impressive. They give me optimism for the future.

So rumors are flying of course, but we won't know for sure the extent of the next purge until the board meeting tomorrow, My running joke is that we have a corporate bulimia: we Board, we purge. One of the older Construction Managers sent me a nice message of appreciation. Once the announcement is formal, I can touch base with the others. I have entertained myself by wearing the Freudian Slippers that SP bought for me and sent to the office. (of course, he thought that the numerical ranges indicated age, not shoe size, so he got me ones for "12 and up," meaning the slippers are huge. Lots of jokes about Slipper Envy.) They are beyond fabulous, and we are all having a good laugh.

Today SP called to let me know he'd ordered all the celebration preparations, and would be ready to go once I gave the word. At noon he called me at work to say the clowns were getting tired. I suggested he keep them occupied for another day and feed the ponies.

"What if they decide to keep you?"he asked.

"Don't you even think that," I said.

Sick, sick pervert.

Food

SP is always calling to tell me of a dish he's made or tried; when I'm not home he leaves me voice mails that go something like:

"Ok, try this. Take a rutabaga, boil it, then mash it with a little butter, a little vanilla, and a little pepper. Delicious."

"Page 36, Vegetarian Planet. OH! So good."

The other day I got a call at work:

"You know what's the best thing? Toast."

Mayonnaise is also high on SP's list of ambrosial foods.

SP loves food, so when he shares these things it feels personal, and sweet.

I never seem to have the time that SP has to dedicate myself to cooking, so my meals tend to be things like microwaved potatoes or steamed cauliflower or homemade guacamole with corn chips.

SP is hands-down the best cook I've ever known; I miss being spoiled by his meals.