More memories from getting fired …
I knew how I would spend my first few days at home. It would take me that long to try all the markers and pens I had accumulated over the years to see which ones still worked. And they were all mine, not company issue, ones I had purchased because I was picky about my writing utensils. Two fistfuls of markers had accentuated my creative energies. Now I could draw my own conclusions in life.
The paper clips belonged to the company but the magnetic holder was mine. The plastic stacking files were mine so I had to pull out everything and leave it in a big pile. What a shame. Wait, the colored folders were mine. Keep your plain, boring ones.
I never realized how many notepads I had accumulated over the years. From humorous to insulting, they offered an appropriate comment for any mood any day. Where do I find the one that sums up my feelings this day?
The anxiety and anticipation was building as I peeled the personalized, automatic number labels off my phone. I had used speed dial for so long and now I would be at the mercy of a telephone book and my memory.
After pulling my name off the in/out board, I stoically exited.
And what did I forget? My frozen dinners in the freezer. Hey, those things aren't cheap!
More tomorrow …
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