So, I just got laid off. And, although I initially greeted this information with the standard reactions of fear, uncertainty and mental images of homelessness, now I have to say I’m pretty happy about it.
Maybe it’s because this isn’t my first time being laid off.
As a twentysomething who graduated college in the mid-to-late-2000s, my entrance to the real world perfectly coincided with the “Great Recession.” So yeah, I’ve already witnessed a seemingly successful career plummet into the abyss of unemployment.
The first time I got laid off, I took it pretty hard. Back then, I was working as an entertainment journalist in Las Vegas, a job that (although low-paying) was frequently padded with comped dinners at acclaimed restaurants, free show tickets, celebrity-studded nightclub openings, countless open bars and coveted poolside cabanas. I went from that lifestyle to waitressing in Denver, so my long work hours were swiftly replaced with part-time work; free entertainment now meant a trip to the public library. Champagne was replaced by the “champagne of beers.”