Fired

Sitting there, with tears dripping down my cheeks, I weighed my options. I had just been fired and I needed a job fast. With rent due next week and my other bills past due, I had no idea what I was doing to do next. I had held this job for as long as I could remember, it was my first job…and I was proud for maintaining it for so long…I don’t understand what went wrong. I was sick, so I called in sick two days…and now everyone that worked there hated me. I just don’t understand, it wasn’t like I had been making it up or something, they knew I was ginually sick. I had hardly ever missed a day there…and now, I wouldn’t have to worry about that anymore. So, I sat there, crying like a baby, and going through the local classified ads. I needed a job, but no one was hiring for the job that I wanted…so I would have to work at something else. I was so scared, because that had been my only job, the only one I knew how to do…what if I screwed up again…what if I didn’t do something right at the interview or during the application process?

I tried to remain calm, but I felt like I was on the verge of a panic attack. The guilt still weighed heavily on my heart, even though I had nothing to feel guilty about. I just felt so icky. Even taking a shower hadn’t been able to wash the hurt or the guiltiness from my mind. What did I need to do? I had no one to turn to and my room mate was getting frusterated with me. I didn’t want to be evicted…and I didn’t want to have the lights shut off…so I just sat there…hopelessly crying into the paper, as if hoping for a miracle. I watched the paper absorb my tears when an idea hit me…