January 27, 2010
LIBRA HOROSCOPE (from astrology.com): Your extra-good energy may be derailed by a disruption. Stay flexible.
“Extra-good” energy? Really?! Had to double check and make sure I hadn’t clicked on the Aries horoscope by accident. (It’s right above Libra on the web page I read.) I don’t think I have any extra-good energy at the moment. Perhaps it’s a sign from Cher: “Snap out of it!” (Ooh, I love “Moonstruck”. Might be worth a rental this weekend.) Should I even attempt to drum up some positive energy if it’s only going to be disrupted? OK, sure. What the hell. (See, I think that’s me being flexible.)
Morning did start out well. Tupper wasted no time doing his business. (That is a major positive. Lately, he’s been circling spots for a full minute and then failing to leave a parting gift. Over and over he spins round and round.) No discernible stains on my work clothes. Yep, another positive. Almost felt like whistling. (But then, I never really learned how. It’s up there with blowing bubbles with gum as one of life’s failures. Oops, don’t go there…focus on the EXTRA-GOOD energy.)
Starbucks stop. Sugar was at the till. Ugh. But, wait! Just as I stepped up, Dodger appeared from nowhere and took over the barista bar. My latté was in his hands! Decided to order it with extra foam. (Ew, sounded sleazy, not flirty. Reconsidered. Not big on the foam anyway.) “No spittle on your shirt today,” Sugar chirped/sniped. I cut her off, immediately blurting my order. Too bad she couldn’t take a hint. “Say,” she continued as she fished for my change. “I didn’t know shoulder pads were back in vogue.” Grr. “They’re not,” I replied through clenched teeth. “And these aren’t.” Humiliated and totally self conscious, I accepted my drink order with a hard-fought smile. Dodger never looked up. Guess he’d been raised not to stare at the freakish Bearded Lady or her cousin, Built-in Shoulder Pad Woman.
Got stuck riding the elevator up with Jeremy Welles. He said, “Hello.” I ignored him and kept my head up, focused intently on the floors lighting up. Ninth floor. My exit. Gosh, that went well.
Didn’t even get my jacket off as Sue from HR was standing at my desk upon arrival. Extra-good energy, extra-good energy. Maybe I’d made a careless error on my timesheet last week. Maybe I was finally getting that raise. “Morning, Laura. I need you to come with me.” Awfully stoic. Best not to let on to the others I was getting a promotion until all the papers were signed. Tickety-boo. Funny word, bouncy even. Flashed to mind from all that super energy.
The door to Ernesto’s office was shut. Lights out. He was usually in at least a half hour before us. Vaguely aware of Ann-Marie at her desk. I blocked her out as she was most definitely an energy zapper. We waltzed into Hunter Keene’s office. Hunter Keene, CEO. He was just sitting and waiting, hands clasped together in front of him atop his stately cherry desk. “Please have a seat, Laura.” I managed a cheery “Good morning”; he just cleared his throat. Sue took the chair beside me, but pulled it away slightly before sitting. She always was the type who was hard to warm up to.
“Ernesto is no longer with the company,” Sue informed. The girls had done it! The tyrant ousted!
Keene jumped in. “We’re doing a little restructuring. I’m afraid your job has been rendered surplus. We’re going to have to let you go.”
My gaze Ping-Ponged from Mr. Keene to Sue. Neither flinched. I’d never been fired. Saw “Up in the Air” two weeks ago. At the time, I’d joked to Katherine that, if it ever happened, I wanted George Clooney to do the deed. Instead, I got to hear it from pot-bellied, crooked-tied, fifty-one going on eighty, master of the comb-over Hunter Keene.
Fired. I’d say that was more than a “disruption”.
LOADED A DIGITAL SHOT OF ME AT THE ENTRANCE TO YALETOWN BREWERY LAST NIGHT AND WHEN I CHECKED THIS A.M. A DOZEN WOMEN HAD ALREADY VIEWED ME! NO MSGES. BUT ONE, KITSKISSER, ADDED ME AS A FAVOURITE. FROM HER PHOTOS, I’D RATHER FLY TO NEWFOUNDLAND AND KISS THE COD, BUT IT’S A START. GOTTA STAY POSITIVE.
SARA SAID SHE’S GOT A NEW CLIENT, RECENTLY DIVORCED, WHO’S LOOKING TO START OVER. ATTRACTIVE, TOO. SHE’S GOING TO TRY TO SET SOMETHING UP. IS IT CREEPY TO HAVE MY SIS PIMPIN’ ME? I’LL TAKE WHAT I CAN GET.
RAN INTO ALEXIA WHITBURN OVER LUNCH BREAK TODAY. AWKWARD. CLARA & I WERE AT HER PLACE FOR A DINNER PARTY EIGHT MONTHS AGO & NEVER OFFERED AN INVITATION IN RETURN. COURSE, THAT’S WHEN EVERYTHING WAS UNRAVELING, BUT ALEXIA DIDN’T KNOW. SHE KEPT ASKING ABOUT US. FINALLY HAD TO SPILL IT: CLARA & I WERE OVER. THAT DIDN’T STOP HER. HAD TO ASK THE WHEN, THE WHY, THE HOW…
HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO MOVE ON WHEN I KEEP BEING HIT IN THE HEAD WITH THE PAST?