After being laid off…

So I just got laid off. Part of me is relieved, yet part of me wants to cry. Who the fuck is he to lay me off, I think… and using his wife as a messenger? Pathetic.  

I guess I didn’t say anything after Chloe gave me the news, because next thing I know, she says, “Avery? Are you alright?” I tell her I’m fine, though it sounds like I am about to cry. And I do (just a couple tears, but still). How embarrassing. I just feel like such a loser, getting fired from this job that is awful, anyway. It’s not worth crying over, I think to myself. (I know that’s what my friend’s therapist would tell me; my friend Amy always gives me her therapist’s advice and I try to apply it to my life, since a therapist is the last thing I have money for — though probably the first thing I need right now; that, or my college guidance counselor… although she sure didn’t steer me well in regards to Hollywood). I should be crying out of happiness, not out of rejection.  

Chloe hugs me, saying, “It’s just temporary.” I mutter back, “I know,” through a few more tears. “I really am sorry about what happened, Avery,” she adds. I hope she is. She gets up and, just like that, is out the door. She doesn’t even do the glance-back. Ah, well. 

I decide to make a list of what I want to do out here… and what I don’t want to do. What I can do quickly for money… and what I won’t do quickly for money. 

Some of the “can do” things include:

-Type (i.e., temp).

-Waitress (although, in L.A., it is near impossible to get a waitressing job, even with my years of experience in the Midwest).

-Pet sit.

-Baby-sit.

-Plant sit. (Plant sit?!)

-Too many other ridiculous ideas to mention here… I decide to do none of the above and sleep through the next three days, instead. And is it ever nice… And the good thing about sleeping the day away is that it’s free – you don’t spend any money. Although I guess it actually ended up costing me money… for those were three days of not working. But when you add up the money I saved on not buying groceries… it almost comes out even. 

On my fourth day of unemployment, I forget to silence my phone and, around 9 a.m., it starts to ring off the hook. Thinking it must be my long-distance mother (she always forgets about the time change, “I’m two hours earlier, Mom”) – who else would call so obsessively – I pick up. And, yep, you guessed it – it’s Chloe.  

“Avery? Is that you?” she says. (Don’t you love when people say that, even though you both know damn well that they called your phone, so who else would it be?!) “Yes, it’s me,” I say. “Good. What are you doing around 9:30?” she asks… I decide not to say sleeping, smile that I am wanted (like when a guy still wants you when you no longer want him), and tell her I’ll see her at the house then… and she promises to leave the door unlocked this time. : )