So, obviously, my brain is not capable of subscribing to normal human reaction. Which is why my last day at a job was an occasion for it to rejoice - every night with a different set of people for 7 straight days - and this after working from 8am to 9pm for 3 of those nights because I wanted to finish my work myself rather than hand it over (honestly, I can be such a child - I have no idea what I was proving to whom). I didn't hate the job - far from it. My only complaint was the long hours. Yet I happily, ecstatically bounced, skipped even, out of work at noon on the last day, fulfilled with the improbable completion of my madly ambitious self created work.
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I may not have a problem with all this - but others did. The range of reactions when I told people I was leaving:- "What? Why? Are you going back to India?"- "Oh, are [insert rival/client/vendor company here] - "Let me guess - you're getting married *smug grin*" (????????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)- "Cool. So when's the farewell party?"- "But you'll still come to office to meet us right?" (duh, what now?)- "Oh, that's horrible. Did you want to talk about it over coffee - I'm free now. Or how about tomorrow?" (this from a person I barely know and have never met outside of the office walls)- "Hey, can I take your desktop then? Mine's so slow...."I was thoroughly amused by the way it panned out. It was very dramatic. Professional confidentiality disallows a more detailed description, but I think it kills the person who has to tell you you're being let you go more than you. You almost feel bad for the guy.Anyway, come Friday night, I was recovering from 7 days of non stop work and play at a friend's house over a very smoky green apple hookah which mixed with cigarette smoke and alcohol earlier on left us with a very strangely alien high. Next day, I came home, shopped, cooked a fancy lunch, cleaned, applied first coat of varnish on a pending carpentry project and went to sleep at 10pm. I have given myself a deadline of 2 months - for what? Not sure. What's the ultimatum at the end of 2 months? Nothing. Its just 2 months of a jobhunt and rediscovering what it means to have time to think. I still don't know what it is I'm supposed to think about.I wish I had this awful feeling its all going to hit me and I'll plummet head first into an abyss of self pity. My parents are now desperate to see an iota of emotion. But it won't happen. Its not denial. It simply wasn't that important to me. I have this feeling this was meant to happen - it's supposed to force me out of something. What? God knows. My worldly faculties fail to grasp how losing your job is a good thing in the middle of a recession.What is wrong with me?