Monday, August 25, 2003 And having writ... Okay, yesterday was not a particularly good day. My dad got laid off; none of us are going to wind up in the street, or anything, but it's a definite shock, and will require a lot of mental adjustment and lifestyle changes. Feh.
Assorted impressions:
When my mom got the Republican National Committee's request for their usual generous donation, she wrote back "Unable to donate this year because of husband's job loss." My dad asked, "Did you write 'It's the economy, stupid'?" (No, she isn't that direct.)
Dad: "When your neighbor loses their job, it's a recession. When you lose your job, it's a depression."
My brother (hereinafter B. [his actual initial, not just standing for "brother"]) is a cop, as I've mentioned; he always has his gun on him, although when he leaves Philly he takes out the bullets. Anyway, Dad said, "I decided that I wasn't a suicide risk, so you could bring your gun." B., matter-of-factly: "You couldn't get it away from me."
At his now–former company, they don't make you walk out with your possessions in a box. You can go back to your office for your wallet, keys, and briefcase, and then they box up the rest of the stuff and ship it to you. At least it's a more dignified exit.
Back at home with J., talking about it: He kept reassuring me that things would be fine; they've saved a lot of money, they own some property they can sell, and my dad will get severance pay until the end of the year. "Nobody's bulletproof, but they're in the Popemobile."
Also: "They don't have to worry about supporting their kids anymore. B.'s launched out on a new career, you're doing well at work, and I'm not too much of a disgrace..."
As for me, I'd better not get manic and get $10,000 into debt again, that's for sure...
