from the bottle to the tub

Last night was, ugh, to say the very least - tragic. I was fired for the first time ever, and my ex-boss chose to do it oh-so-eloquently over the phone. And then to top things off, she meant to send a text to her assistant manager about firing me... but sent it to me instead.

Feeling like a waste of flesh, I dried my eyes and headed straight to the liquor cabinet. It was unfair, really it was. My ex-boss somehow felt it was my fault that her 6-week old boutique was not raking in money. I had been employed less than two weeks; did she really expect me to make miracles happen? Booze me up, baby.

So this morning I was woken by the sound of my kitty getting into everything that could possibly make noise in the bedroom. Damn that cat. In my oversized tee and cotton pajama shorts, I plopped my butt down in front of the computer to find yet another new job. Seeing my extremely limited job options only increased my self-loathing and desperation. I applied for a half dozen jobs but didn't have much hope for any of them. What am I going to do?

I may not have a plan for the future, or even tomorrow, but I knew what I had to do right then. I showered. Whatever stench or bad luck or bad whatever that was covering me needed to go. So I let the scalding hot water rush over me and clean it all away. I can't keep beating myself up. I can be so worrisome and pesimistic. I need a clean start.

(photo from here)