Funemployment: Week 12

You guessed it, I am still unemployed. I have been offered a handful of positions over these past few months but due to one red flag or another (salary too low, location too far, hours too many) I have declined them all. In fact, I declined another one just this morning due to the 10 hour/week commute + a 50 hour work week expectation. No fricking thank you.

Yet, that’s the standard for the industry I chose: hospitality. I started down this path in high school, working in coffee shops and pizza places which built a strong foundation for dealing with difficult customers but, young and inexperienced, I wasn’t very good at that at first- you give me attitude, I will give it right back and you can take your extra-hot-half-caf-dollop-of-foam-5-shot-ridiculousness and your I-am-allergic-to-everything-gluten-free-carb-free-vegan-hockey-puck and kiss my 16 year old minimum wage earning butt!!! (“Let’s have a talk about your attitude, Laura.” Yeah, I got that a lot.)

I matured, learned the elements of successful customer service, becoming oh so very friendly and welcoming that in college I landed at a fine dining restaurant in Beverly Hills as a hostess. This was no Starbucks-Pizza-Hut, no sir- this place was 5 star, this place was expensive, this place attracted celebrities, this place was serious service. And, I loved it.

Fall of 1994 with co-host Michael at Lawry’s Beverly Hills- where my now nearly 30 year hospitality career truly began!
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Funemployment: Week 1

I was let go a week ago. I am recovering. I am no longer wallowing. And I am keeping busy…

DAY ONE: Embrace all the outrage, anger, sadness, and humiliation in the world. Cry in husband’s arms, call/text all girlfriends for support and vent until I can’t vent anymore… then vent more. And cry more. Wanted- in every last fiber of my being- to open several bottles of wine and anesthetize from all these horrible feelings but, I didn’t. Instead, I called more friends and ate chocolate.

DAY TWO: Couldn’t sleep all night, woke up still feeling horrible. Wrote blog post about getting fired to try to feel better about getting fired. Kinda felt better. Kinda didn’t. Started applying for jobs. Successfully stayed away from the Wine Witch but did not escape the Chocolate Chum.

DAY THREE: That horrible, gut sinking feeling remains. Damnit. But holdonwaitasecondhere my job applications are getting responses! Two interviews scheduled already! Also got to the gym and listened to all the angry break-up songs while I attacked on the elliptical and did weights for an hour and that felt great. Rage seems to be abating but pretty sure I need a little more chocolate just to be sure.

Finding truth on the trails.
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Today’s Reason: Fired

Yesterday, I was fired. I was working in the hospitality division at one of the most esteemed colleges in the country and after just a year, I was let go. “We decided to go a different direction and today is your last day.” I keep replaying that moment over in my head with disbelief that there was no warning prior, no concrete reasons as to why just, “Today is your last day.”

Anger took over. As soon those fateful words were spoken, I said nothing in response, turned away from my (former) boss and started calmly shutting my computer down. He also said nothing further- no thanking me for the long hours and 6-day work weeks I had put in, the myriad of successful processes I had created, the team of nearly 80 people I had built from zero, no tidings of good luck in my future, no offer of a reference even- instead, he left the room. I placed my badge and keys on the desk, said, “Wow, really? Really???” to the HR rep, picked up my purse and walked out.

I didn’t even clean out my desk, just left all of my personal effects behind and exited the building for the final time as fast as I could. Now, here I wallow sit in the feelings that remain: anger, sadness, disbelief, rejection, worry, shame, humiliation just to name a fun few. But, on the other side of this new hurdle I can see a glimmer of relief that it’s over and excitement for what’s to come.

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