One of the earliest communications I had as soon as I found out about Dave's passing was an email I sent to the editor of the newspaper where I was to start my new job. His reply stated that I should go take care of my family and that they would see me when I returned - and to let them know of any updates to the situation (when I would be back, etc). The email felt promising and reassuring, exactly what I needed at that moment.
As soon as the date for the funeral was set I sent the editor another email stating which day I would be travelling back to Cody, and that I would be ready to work the next day. All throughout the week in Denver, a lingering anxiety stayed put within me, a nervousness about beginning my new job. I didn't know what to expect, so I just reassured myself that I'd dive right in and go with the flow when the time came.
Sunday night, after a week of complete emotional, physical, and mental exhaustion, we arrived in Cody. Walking into the apartment felt so good, but all three of us were just off, or "out of whack" as we call it. My knees and back screamed in pain from the long-ass drive in the U-Haul we had to rent to haul Dave's stuff home (and the packing of said U-Haul the day before). I certainly didn't want to get up in the morning and start my new job. Instead, I just wanted to lay in bed for a week to regain the sense of my being that was so oddly out of sorts.
As we were getting ready for bed that night, Brandon said I wish Dad hadn't died when he did. You are so happy about getting your dream job and now you're too late. I reassured him that while I had missed a week, I wasn't too late, that I would just have to work harder to prove myself.
I met with the editor Monday morning (yesterday) just like I said I would, and we had a bit of small talk about the past week. Then he said to head into his office so we could talk, so in we went. He proceeded to tell me that they hired someone while I was gone. He needed to protect the interest of the paper, he didn't know if something would happen and I'd get stuck in Denver, he didn't know what kind of mental state I'd be in.
As he kept talking, he let me know they would like to keep me on to take pictures around town for a couple weeks, that they weren't really busy with assignments, that I should keep track of mileage so I'd be compensated, yadda yadda yadda, and all that was going through my mind was
The meeting ended, and as soon as I shut the door to my car, I decided fuck no, I wasn't going to stick around with the newspaper. The fact that someone was hired while I was dealing with the death of my kids' dad, and I wasn't even given a chance, was a giant fucking insult.
The kids knew something was up when I returned home so quickly, and Brandon did his best to hold back his tears. He was right all along and his devoted concern for me hurt my heart. I knew I'd be ok, but the kids, who so desperately need solid footing right now, weren't convinced.
I truly feel that everything happens for a reason. I've spoken to many people about this and I keep hearing that I dodged a bullet. I'm not sad and I'm really not angry. I'm moving forward like I always do 'cause I really don't have any other choice. There's something better out there for me. Don't know what it is or when it will show itself, but it's out there.
I've been wondering what the purpose of this whole job fiasco was, and I honestly think it was my way out of TSA. Were it not for the prospect of the newspaper job, I would have stayed in TSA Hell forever because it was safe. The new job handed me some big girl panties so I could say I quit to a job that was sucking the life out of my soul. I think that's what I've needed more than anything - some BALLS. It's about time they dropped.
So with that I'm officially unemployed and excited to see what's out there for me.
Wish me luck!