...should I Google that? Because I have no idea.
So it actually happened. I'm affected by the economy now.
I accepted a job offer during finals week before graduating from Purdue, started this "Big Girl" job within days of graduation, and I've been there ever since. I've felt so lucky in this shit economy -- it seemed like everyone else around me was dealing with it, but I was in my air-conditioned ivory tower.
Then this morning, David got laid off.
He'd seen it coming for a while. He noticed the big contracts they were losing, the "re-organization" of certain teams, a lay off here and there at the Indianapolis location. Then this morning, I got a phone call at work, and it was him.
"Is this like what you pulled on April Fool's, because if so--" "No," he said, his voice shaking a little, "I'm holding my termination letter in my hand. I'm coming to your building right now." I hung up the phone, breathed a loud "fuuuuuck," and burst into tears.
I waited with hot chocolate in the lobby of my building, and he strolled in. Almost smiling.
We sat in the cafeteria and talked while I hid my red, puffy face with a tissue. "It's going to be fine," he said, and explained his severance package, reimbursement for his vacation days, and applying for unemployment in the meantime. I worried about the house, the cats, his son's insurance. Then I cried more.
"Let's go on a field trip," he said, and we went to the AT&T store to get him a new phone, as his cell phone was for work. Then we came home, where my brand new computer monitor is all fucked up, and then Cissy peed on it. And I cried more.
Now he's on hold with Best Buy, and they've got holiday Muzak playing -- currently, Deck the Halls, and he's singing along to it, a la A Christmas Story -- "fa ra ra ra ra, ra ra ra raaaa." I have no idea how he's so upbeat. It's like he feels like he can do anything now. Like a weight has been lifted. But I'm still worried about the house. The pressure to make money. The pressure to survive on my salary. The pressure of having to make sure that I don't come home from work and find him in a recliner, covered in bits of popcorn, watching The Price is Right on DVR.
There was a co-worker of his that I didn't like very much whose girlfriend is one of the biggest bitches I've ever met. Like, bitch in a bad way (there's another co-worker of his is a "bitch" in a good way, as in a completely anti-feminist way of saying that she's assertive and knows how to get what she wants...and when you're a professional female and a mother of four, I'm sure that comes in handy -- hi Katie). "Does this mean I don't have to see them (not you, Katie, I mean the other two) ever again?" I asked, and he laughed and said yes.
I know this post is very disjointed. I'm just kind of writing.
And I know it'll be okay. I worry. But he's been through worse -- coming home injured from Iraq, getting laid off from two or three jobs right off the bat, dealing with the aftermath brought on by being a veteran. He's got pretty thick skin, and he's been affected by the economy before... it's just new to me.