Forgetful Me

A funny thing happened to me today. I got laid off. I was told to go ahead and finish out the day. So I dutifully stayed at my computer until it just didn’t make any sense sticking around for the “rest of the day.” All the rest of us unlucky souls had already left the office.

I started to input my hours into the online time keeping system. I am a telecommuter. I usually work from home. I was asked to come to the office today. Never a good thing. Especially when your boss starts out the meeting with “Bad News.” Anyway, I went into the office today. I forgot my password at home.

I tried to do my time card. I was really nervous – never been laid off before. And I screwed up my password. I hate corporate America. It seems that no matter what program you use you need a password. Can’t they make it easier? I couldn’t for the life of me remember my password. Between all of my personal accounts and my work accounts (former) I must have 25 passwords. Well, I was nervous, I just wanted to go home and drink. On the third try the system kicked me out.

I had to call the help desk for my password to login for the last time. How pathetic is that? (Don’t answer that.) I really don’t need to know. So the guy picks up on the other end. I have to answer some security questions. First he asks me my name. I tell him.

I am already depressed by being laid off but he has to ask me my security questions. I feel awful about forgetting my password for my last official act as an employee. But he has to ask me a question about what high school I went to. I went to high school in New Orleans. My high school was destroyed in Hurricane Katrina, and, like my most recent job, it doesn’t exist anymore. Thanks man.

Then he has to ask me about my dad’s middle name. My dad, I love him, but it is hard watching him grow old. It is kind of depressing. Thanks man. Then he asks me my mom’s birthday. “Hey, knock it off, we are all getting older, ok.”

Well, he reaches the conclusion that I am who I say I am. I tell him that it is reassuring that I am who I say I am because on Mondays and Fridays I sometimes forget. We both got a mild chuckle about that one. He said he always remembers who he is on Fridays. Me, I am not so sure. Especially this “Friday”. This “Friday” (the end of my week was Thursday) I wasn’t too sure who I was. Two hours ago I was a gainfully employed, tax-paying citizen. But now…? I just don’t know who I am.

And so, I sit here tonight. Wondering if I should continue on this path, trying to be someone I am not sure I am, or if I should veer off on another course to see what is on the horizon. Who am I? What shall I do?

My daughter, bless her heart, found some jobs online that she thinks I should apply for. She is right. She knows who I am. Better than I do, I think. She chose some interesting jobs. Jobs which will allow me to pursue other options. Jobs which will allow me to grow. We shall see. Next week I might know who I am. Next week I may be a different person.
Wish me luck.

D.