How It All Began

It was August 2007. The big honcho sent an email, announcing the decision to analyze the pros and cons of using a third-party offshore company to replace us. People were shocked. Angry. Depressed. Some of my coworkers had been there close to twenty years and didn't believe life could exist outside of their four gray cube walls. Most people didn't think management would do it, and if so, they were too important to be canned.

It took them until May the next year to announce their decision, but I already knew what their decision would be and that I'd be on that list. I knew this was going to happen four years before it did, and I was ready to move on.

I hated my job. I hated working for someone else, living on their schedule, punching my time card (figuratively speaking), running the same tests over and over. Computers don't talk back. People do. And I discovered long ago the futility of my job.

I discovered that when I left my first child at home with her daddy and drove away to go to work. And again, when my second was born and my maternity leave was over and the little girl refused to take a bottle and would starve all day while I was gone. And again with my third. 

My family. That is what was important.

And I prayed to be set free. And God promised to move on my behalf.

So I knew I would be free someday. And when they announced the possible layoffs, I knew I'd be on that list. I would collect my severance and go home to my family. One door closes and another always opens. There is always something new to face. A new challenge. A new phase of existence.

But what about money after the severance check was gone? What if being home with my kids wasn't possible? What if I still need to bring in money?

And that is when I was faced with the question: What do I really want to be when I grow up?