There are moments in life that you know are specifically there to test what you are made of, to try and see if you can be broken and if not, then to bend you and add some spackle so you are irrevocably bent in this new direction and cemented there. One of these such moments has befallen my household. My husband, after working months to rewrite a major part of code for an internet security company, was “let go” within 30 minutes of telling the owners how to install the code on all the other machines. There was no warning; there was no heads up. There is something to be said for looking at your life and knowing that it could all come to a screeching halt in a matter of weeks. Knowing that your existence depends on this little bit of paper (or in most cases as few numbers held on a magic box somewhere) and there isn’t a dang thing you can do without it.
My husband is not normally the optimistic one of us two. He is the grumpy, down-trodden, self-doubting one. But this time, I guess he knew that I wasn’t going to be able to hold us because he is seeing this as an opportunity to find himself a better job, one that he likes, one where the owners care about the product they are making. He is almost excited to look for something else and elated at not having to answer to his jerk-faced bosses anymore. I, on the other hand, am done. I have a limited well of caring that I can dish out. School is taking so much out of me that I can’t give anything else to this. I am ready to lay down and let the train of life run me over and kill me in its tracks.