Nine Months Later

It’s been nine months since I got laid off. I tried to land another job. One interview, a few polite rejections, and a ton of crickets later, I decided that I’m done. Now, instead of telling people that I got laid off, I tell them that I got retired.

Luckily, I don’t have to live on cat food just yet.

Anyway, during that layoff call, the HR rep asked brightly, “So Mary, what do you think you’ll do?”

I said, “I’ll probably just retire.”

Big smiles from my boss and the HR rep.

I guess it was the right answer.

But seriously, what kind of question is that? I was still processing the fact that I’d just been fired! I didn’t have a backup plan in my pocket.

As usual for me, I thought of all the snarky answers long after the call:

• I don’t know yet; are you nuts?

• Sell my blood. Oh wait, I’m ineligible because, y’know, lymphoma.

• Sell my eggs. Oh wait, that ship sailed 20 years ago.

• Sue you for ageism. Oh wait, you’ve figured that one out, I’m sure.

• Beg for a job on LinkedIn. (Didn’t work.)

• OnlyFans! Surely there are people with granny fetishes. (Ick.)

• Become a famous Tik Tok/Instagram/Facebook influencer and rake in millions.

• Win the Power Ball.

• Welcome to Walmart!

I guess it’s not as bad as the manager who said to a friend, “This is really hard on me.” She shot back, “Not as hard as it is on me!”

Anyway, maybe this bit will become part of my Emmy Award-winning HBO stand-up comedy routine - World’s Best Geriatric Comedian!

XOXO
Mary