Unemployment

Damn. What an awful day. What an absolutely, positively, undoubtedly and decidedly terrible day. Damn.

"Fine. Thanks for letting me know. Yes, I know. Grass is always greener and all that."

I hung up the quant-comm with a firm press of my thumb to my ear. Damn new tech. Hanging up just doesn't have the emotional punch that it used to. Especially when angry. No more throwing a cell phone across the room, or smashing a receiver to bits on the counter. Just a regular thumb press to the ear flap of the quantum communicating device and the conversation is over. You look exactly the same ending a conversation with your best friend as you would with an ex-wife. Just a damn thumb to the ear, though I suppose we could still smash our damn heads against a brick wall. I bet that'd have the same effect. Might even feel better, too, depending on the conversation.

I should have seen this coming. I know that a person never gets something for free on this god-forsaken planet any more than you'd have some bugger give you his shirt off his back. Promotion, my fat ass. They were just greasing me up to shove me out the door. No one in their right mind would turn down a promotion, would they? Certainly no one would ever expect getting "let go" just a week later.

I don't understand. What did I do wrong? What did I do to deserve this?

What am I worth now?
_____________

I dreamt that night. It was the most realistic dream I've ever had. It was... malleable. Everything felt at one with me and I was at one with the universe. Everything was an extension of me. I could feel the tree, the ground, the air as if they were all a part of me. I could feel them living. I could see the ground at my feet without looking. I could feel the wind in each head of wheat when I breathed. In the distance, I heard a knock and I saw a door. I knew I was the one that was supposed to answer. I knew who was behind it before I opened it. I cracked the door the door and everything faded to black. But I knew that it would.

A voice came, sounding familiar, "Max, could you come to my office?"

I see me without being there. Someone is playing a hologram of my life, only I feel everything as it happens. I see all angles. "Uh oh. Looks like I'm in trouble, Ted!" I tell my co-worker. We laugh. I walk the long hall to my supervisor's office, her great holographic name and title shimmering above the doorway. I walk with energy, with life into the room. The blues look bluer outside, the faces of people a bit happier. I arrive.

"Close the door, Max."

I look at the two women, my boss and her secretary. I smile but I'm anxious. The air in the room changes to something heavier, something laborious. I shake me head to clear my mind but I fail. My mind begins to race. Who died? Who got let go? Damn, that would be the third time this month! This company is going down the tubes... Somewhere, I hear a bird chirp and sing. Wasn't it a long winter just a week ago? Where did the spring come from, and where is it going?

"Go ahead and take a seat." she says. I sit. I cross my legs. The secretary says nothing. I see her say nothing, and she nods.

My supervisor speaks. I think of her words before she says them. She's just an extension of me.

"As you know, it's been a hard month here. I was hoping things would get better, and I still believe they will but..." she breathes. I breathe. The secretary doesn't. She just nods. "We no longer have the resources to support your position."

The blues turn red. The bird stops chirping as if I commanded it. It turns back into winter. Spring disappears. "Ok." That was all I could get out. I was screaming in another life. The part of me watching all this happen. Screaming and ripping and fuming. I did everything right. I did everything right!

But I should have known, I say to myself. I should have known. How could I have known? But someone did, and that someone wasn't me.

"You'll get your two weeks pension, and you will be able to apply for..." something catches in her throat. It's her words. She can't say them but she doesn't have to. She an extension of me. "Unemployment. You'll be able to apply for that."

"Ok." I say again. I can't remember any other words. They're all caught in her throat.

"But we're a big company. I'd love to recommend you for any position you apply within."

"Really?" the words came rushing back, barrelling out cold and hot. The winter had entered into my body somehow but the anger was still there. Words mixed together like I said a thousand things at once, "Is our managerial company hiring a lot of managers?"

Tears began to well in her eyes. It wasn't harsh but I saw she was hurt. I knew she was hurt. The winter outside turned to fall and the leaves fell as she cried. I didn't want to be the strong one. I wanted to be the one with the paycheck. She was paid to be strong. I was getting fired. The secretary nods at nothing, then shakes her head at nothing. She got paid to nod and shake.

"Hey, everything's gonna be alright." I say, taking her hand in mine. "Don't worry. You'll get through this." As if I knew. I hoped they wouldn't be alright.

But she got through it. Things went fast forward. She fired five other people that day. And got paid $38.42 an hour doing it. While my dream oscilated between winter and fall, anger and pity, she was in summer. The secretary folded her arms and again nodded at nothing. I began to hate that nodding. I was so consumed that the dream ended. I woke to a dark room and a mockingbird singing outside. There was no light out. It was the beginning of spring.

___________

*CRACK*

"Goddammit!"

I fall to the floor in a heap, clutching my shin. I ran into the coffee table for the third time that week and struck the same spot each time. I had also applied for three different jobs. I'm not sure which hurt more.

It had been three weeks. I was bored. It was full on spring. The birds were still outside. I never applied for unemployment.

"I know what hurts more." I said to the birds, to the winter, to that damn secertary that nodded at nothing. "It hurts knowing that there was nothing I could do to prevent this."

I catch the blood from my shin, lick my fingers and wipe the wound as the welt surges to a greater size. There were three more applications to write and I didn't want to.