Sixth Sense

It's weird losing your job, then working for the next few weeks anyway. Especially when there's nothing to do. I'm not complaining, though. Could have been worse. They could have said, "Pack up and leave," and then paid me for the next two weeks. This way, I get to sort through files and emails lesurely, to decide what's worth keeping for future reference and what's not. Instead of just up and leaving everything. I get a paid Christmas vacation. My class will be paid for. I'll get a Christmas bonus, too, if they give one out this year. That will really help. And, my last paycheck will be dated 1/6/06, not 11/23/05. A few weeks reprieve. These are all definitely good things.

What's really bad is that you're there but you're not there. People look at you as if to say, "Are you still here?" It's like the lines from the movie The Sixth Sense, when the young boy says, "I see dead people. They're everywhere. They don't even know they're dead." Only, there's just me. And, I know I'm dead. My brain has already moved on: Notes on prospective clients. New job leads. Freelance work. What to do—freelance or job hunt? (I'm friends with monster.com now.) How to pay for classes next semester? But, my car still takes me to Horsham in the morning. And my feet into the office. And, then, I go home again at night.

Someone walks in with an editing task. I look at them. "Don't you know I don't work here anymore?" I think. But, I don't say it. I don't burn my bridges. They may have freelance work for me. They may hire me back eventually. They could give me a good reference for another job. Sigh! It could always be worse. And, it has been worse. So, I know better. I'm getting off easy this time. But, already I don't remember what they are doing here. What I'm doing here. My mind has moved on to January, although my body spends the day in Horsham.