It’s not personal

Wow, it’s been a week already. I think last week was the longest week I could remember in a long time. *shrug*

I had a chance to have lunch with some of my (now former) co-workers Friday and someone remarked, “Wow, you’re handling this so WELL!”

Well, not really …

I’ve put on a semi-happy face when people are around, but sitting at home by myself, I’ll admit it’s hard not to feel down. I’ve lost all interest in my sites and have for the most part been ignoring my feeds and pretty much all social networks.

I was talking to a friend earlier today and noted that Friday there were some who I’d worked with or for who couldn’t seem to bring themselves to speak to me. I’m sure my getting laid off then being back in the office so soon after made things “weird” for some people. I kept telling myself, “It’s not personal. It was a financially driven decision that had nothing to do with my performance.” (Hell, I even have that in writing!)

But that’s just it … it IS personal. I loved that job. I loved the people I worked with. I even loved some of my customers. I took my job very seriously and always, every day, did my absolute best with pride. How could I not take it personally when I’m told that my position has been “eliminated” and to, “Get your crap and get out.”

Ok, they didn’t really say the last part, but it’s the same if you ask me.

And so I’m taking it personally. I’ve snapped at my family. I’ve cried every time I’d hear from one of my co-workers. I’ve cried every time I’d hear from one of my customers (one of whom gave me an absolute glowing recommendation this weekend). I’ve felt even worse when I check all my job feeds and see no new postings.

And at this point, part of me wishes I had gone into the medical field … there’s never a shortage of jobs over there!

So yeah, I’m not out of “the funk” just yet …

Welcome Finn Alexander!

Humpday Hilarities

Today’s edition is courtesy of my pal Don:

It is important for men to remember that, as women grow older, it becomes harder for them to maintain the same quality of housekeeping as when they were younger. When you notice this, try not to yell at them. Some are oversensitive, and there’s nothing worse than an oversensitive woman.

My name is Jim. Let me relate how I handled the situation with my wife, Christine. When I retired a few years ago, it became necessary for Christine to get a full-time job along with her part-time job, both for extra income and for the health benefits that we needed.

Shortly after she started working, I noticed she was beginning to show her age. I usually get home from the golf club about the same time she gets home from work and although she knows how hungry I am, she almost always says she has to rest for half an hour or so before she starts dinner. I don’t yell at her. Instead, I tell her to take her time and just wake me when she gets dinner on the table. I generally have lunch in the Men’s Grill at the club so eating out twice is not reasonable. I’m ready for some home-cooked grub when I hit that door.

She used to do the dishes as soon as we finished eating. But now it’s not unusual for them to sit on the table for several hours after dinner. I do what I can by diplomatically reminding her several times each evening that they won’t clean themselves. I know she really appreciates this, as it does seem to motivate her to get them done before she goes to bed.

Another symptom of aging is complaining, I think. For example she will say that it is difficult for her to find time to pay the monthly bills during her lunch hour. But, boys, we take ‘em for better or worse, so I just smile and offer encouragement. I tell her to stretch it out over two or even three days. That way she won’t have to rush so much.

I also remind her that missing lunch completely now and then wouldn’t hurt her any (if you know what I mean). I like to think tact is one of my strong points.

When doing simple jobs, she seems to think she needs more rest periods. She had to take a break when she was only half finished mowing the lawn. I try not to make a scene. I’m a fair man. I tell her to fix herself a nice, big, cold glass of freshly squeezed lemonade and just sit for a while. And, as long as she is making one for herself, she may as well make one for me too.

I know that I probably look like a saint in the way I support Christine. I’m not saying that showing this much consideration is easy. Many men will find it difficult. Some will even find it impossible! Nobody knows better than I do how frustrating women get as they get older. However, guys, even if you just use a little more tact and less criticism of your aging wife because of this article, I will consider that writing it was well worthwhile. After all, we are put on this earth to help each other…

Signed,

Jim

EDITOR’S NOTE:

Jim died suddenly on March 27 of a perforated rectum. The police report says he was found with a Calloway extra long 50-inch Big Bertha Driver II golf club jammed up his rear end, with barely 5 inches of grip showing and a sledge hammer laying nearby. His wife Christine was arrested and charged with murder. The all-woman jury took only 15 minutes to find her Not Guilty, accepting her defense that Jim somehow, without looking, accidentally sat down on his golf club.

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