Caterwauling

Got to talking with a friend today about a very awful event.

Another friend unalived herself a few years back. I was in shock.

I got the news just after I told 10 people that day was their last day. (Employed, not on earth)

What prompted me to revisit that awful hell today?

My friend today was saying that she carries insane guilt for laying off someone and then they unalived themselves shortly after.

Like, it was hard enough to tell her staff that she’d done the layoff. But then to call with THAT news …

And I was triggered.

I’ve never spoken about this otherwise, but that’s why my friend died.

She lost a beloved job. Couldn’t replace it. Couldn’t find much of anything, really.

Depression took hold. She picked her exit.

I got the call when someone went through her search history and saw that I was in it.

Back then, I learned a valuable lesson about how to communicate with my superior.

I brought up how affected I was by the layoffs. How all these people had plans and I’ve altered their economic destines.

How sick I felt that my friend killed herself over a layoff.

The reaction wasn’t what I expected. Which was basically that I used the phrase “I don’t care” about businesses when people are hurting. Therefore, I am not a team player.

I realized oh shit he thinks I’m a liability now.

Like, I’m not a snowflake who needs a safe space. But I let my people use their 1:1 time to say whatever they want so we can fix the problem and move on from it.

I clearly have to either call Kelly or keep it to myself now that my mom’s dead.

So, my performance review anxiety predates 2024 when my mom was dying five feet away. (It was one year earlier that I lost that friend.)

Our communication has … increased in frequency.

But it goes better when I’m in a state of stasis. Which I usually am anyway.

I just let a couple situations get me emotional.

Who do I think I am, the s(h)itting president?

I have seven easy tasks that have been haunting me all week.

And here we are on this Sunday night, finally with no distractions … and I am still like fuck it, I’d rather clean.

Narrator: No I am not cleaning.

I did take a few moments to talk with my Tarot cards about it.

For fun, I asked where I can get some AI bro money to buy a house in San Fran (theoretically) like everyone else is.

I got the nostalgia card (Six of Cups).

Maybe an inheritance, maybe an old investment or two, maybe I have something valuable I can part with for cash.

Hmm.

I did some meditating on what I really want.

And honestly? It popped into my head before I even completed the question.

I want a month off.

Not to travel. Not even staycation. A month to not try to write for people who don’t write their own newsletters. A month to just clean and organize my house.

And if I somehow do that early, then sit home and enjoy it. Read a book. Who cares.

I asked what would motivate me. Knight of Cups. Fast love. So … getting my space to the point where it will welcome friends and others.

What’s blocking me? Hermit. Loving the solitude. Not wanting to exchange it for whatever weird shit is in half of the Seven of Cups.

I asked for a quick career reading and not shockingly it’s the Four of Swords. Self-induced stress.

So I said what if I do learn how to do a new skill where I’m at, does it even matter.

Four of wands. Wedding. Stability. Belonging. Harmony. Maybe since I am talking finances, a pooling of resources. (Maybe take a roommate if not a groommate.)

One of my more interesting readings. I shuffled after each question, which I never really do.

Here’s hoping that inheritance comes through.

I do have one in the works. It’s not big. But Grampy had a very tiny asset tied up and it’s taken me 20-odd years to try to un-tie it.

That’s so my family, though. They struggled and starved and “did without,” but

* My Uncle Stan gave me a check to help me get started with college.

* My Gram handed me $40 out of every $200 social security check she received. And she insisted that I have a couple of good gold pieces (jewelry) so I’d never be broke.

* Grampy collected some artifacts in Nazi Germany that I should get appraised if everyone I know in the collectibles industry wasn’t a damn crook. And he always insisted I get a cut of his annual clothing allowance for school clothes.

* Mom hid money all over the house and I ended up with a nice travel budget. At least, it covered two Eras Tour jaunts (Miami and NOLA). She used to leave a $50 under the mat for gas, too, after Gram was gone.

That’s not to discount other generosity shown to me along the way.

* My friend Gail bought me a gold necklace and an Etienne Aigner bag so I could fit in at fancy work events.

* And my cousin Carole, while she got tired of being generous (of her own choosing to do so) was the reason I had a roof over my head for several months. Along with other nice things she did along the way. Again, unasked.

* Even Jean, who gave me a computer for school. Though my mom had to kiss her ass for 10 years for it, after my grandfather had to kiss her ass for 10 years before that. But still. I benefited from my family’s sacrifices.

So I have no business hoping for an inheritance in any way.

But, you know, my family was so kind that they would be joyful that decisions they made paid off for me.

I do think they’d look at me now and say look at how our investment paid off.

Kelly recommended a taco place and a boba place.

I plugged them into my GPS and had to laugh at the location.

Right by the old office. In the very same spot where myself and (redacted) snuck off many a morning for breakfast.

As soon as I sat at the bar, I saw they had Fat Heads’ Bramble Berry beer.

Mom and I went to Fat Heads quite often when they opened up in ’92 or ’93. And I got to sneak back there when I saw Taylor Swift in Pittsburgh in 2023.

Anyway that was a nice moment, to raise a cheers to Mom with our beer.

But then! They started playing Celeste’s “Stop This Flame.”

Mom LOVED that song. It was in “Sex/Life” and it played while Billie was running through the streets of Soho to Brad’s apartment.

I got to Soho last summer. Not that easy to run those streets. But I hope that Momma got to do it finally.

Anyway, what are the odds I was drinking her beer and listening to her song at the same time? And in a spot where I spent many happy days of my own?

Well this slaps.

Insane AITA post on Reddit about a woman who paid for her sister’s wedding, the sister opened up a credit line in her name without alerting her to pay for more wedding shit, and OP canceled it all after being disinvited.

I was already starting to think boy does this sound like work when I hit this comment:

“This may be fiction based on a real letter, but it’s so true. You’re fine as long as you are an ATM and doormat, but the second you stop, you’re the bad guy.

“It’s also the same in the workplace. The guy who is always there, always does his job, never drops the ball, never makes mistakes, covers others’ work when asked, gives up time to stay late or come early when needed gets called ‘not a team player’ the first time they cannot cover for somebody.”

I thought about something Kelly said, over some average grades I got on being “for the team” and “for the customer.”

She said you’d walk through fire for your team and anyone is an idiot who doesn’t know that. And you provide more customer support than most.

I said well yeah I’ll agree with the first part. And possibly the second but I can definitely do more.

But really … now that I don’t work 14-hour days to support my mom and me … it’s noticed.

I missed mom’s whole life. She sat in this house all day, all week, alone. I had the car. I never came home to those nice dinners she had on the table at 6:30.

I SHOULD HAVE BEEN ABLE TO BE HOME AT SIX FUCKING THIRTY.

Especially after leaving at like 6 or 7 A fucking M.

So yeah, once you give less … which really just means you’re giving more to YOURSELF … you get downgraded/downvoted.

The good news is I’ve left behind the version of me who would put in an extra hour a day in hopes of earning more respect or at least catching up.

I’m so sorry, Momma. I stayed employed and you stayed lonely. That’s why I don’t “lock in” … why I can’t lock in even when i want to. When all I want to do is just check out.

“Think of all the time
I’ll have with you
When I don’t wake up on my own.
Wake up on my own.
Held close all the time.
Because I’m half of you.”