"Crap! I wish I hadn't seen Ricky on the sidewalk."

"You will be fine for 31 minutes. You will be dead in 32 minutes."

Wednesday, April 3, 2013


I'll admit I watched Flight under less than ideal circumstances.

I drove home on the day I got fired and changed out of my work clothes. I decided to pull some weeds.

I worked in the yard for about an hour.  With allergies, that's about all I can handle.  I wasn't in shock, wasn't in a daze, wasn't feeling depressed.  The voice in my head was calm and rational.

You don't have a job.  You have three months to find one.

I came inside and called my sister.  There was noise, it sounded like she was driving.  I asked her if it was a bad time.  

"It's Kip," she said. "He's having chest pains." I asked her why she bothered answering the phone in the middle of driving her husband to the hospital with chest pains.

"I wanted to see how you were doing," she said.  

"I'm fine," I told her.  "Let me know how Kip is and we can talk later."  I told her I loved her and hung up the phone.

I found it very strange, being home at 11:15 on a Wednesday.  I wasn't sick, I wasn't on vacation. I've been working steadily since I was 17. 

I emailed some sales reps, told them I was no longer had a job. I texted my old boss, who currently works in California.  We spoke for about 15 minutes. A guy I know in Chicago called to say our buddy in California had also been fired.

Emails appeared.  Shock, disbelief, invitations to drink. 

My sister called back.  Her husband wasn't having a heart attack, it was only acid reflux. 

I told her my news and she immediately offered help.  I thanked her, told her I'd let her know. 

The mail came.  Bills, junk, a copy of Flight from Netflix. 

I spent a couple of hours revising my resume and looking for jobs online.  City, county, state, out-of-state.  

I ate some leftover Chinese food and watched Flight.

The movie is all Denzel.  Denzel, alcohol abuse, Don Cheadle, a redhead I didn't recognize, Bruce Greenwood with an accent, and John Goodman with a big bag of recreational drugs.

It was okay, nothing to shout about.  I wondered if I was being fair.  Maybe I would've liked it better if I hadn't been fired earlier in the day.  

I thought about it some more, decided the answer was no.

Then I went to bed. 



No comments:

Post a Comment