The day I turned purple (2019)

IMG_6749After 10 days without drinking, the swelling in my lower gut finally went down. A balloon losing air.

On Monday I was offered a new job, and on Friday I turned in my laptop and said goodbye.

The January bugs are back, gathered by the front window wanting in. They are gray and featureless, but I don’t mind: they are the first bugs of the new year, a crude precursor to spring. Perhaps they come to needle winter, to bring her down.

It all happened so fast with my job, I sat in the corner of the office waiting to talk to HR and do a few final things. There was no grand goodbye or parting email; I just spoke with the owners of the firm and the people who reported to me, turned in my building access badge, my credit card and laptop, and walked out the back door. They’d wipe my computer clean, all the files and things I created—and it felt sad in a sense, not that I’d lose those things, but how little there was remaining after I left, after almost a year. We are both ourselves and our work, a combination. It’s harder for me to separate the two as I get older, at times more satisfying to keep them one in the same.

On Thursday I sat with a young consultant in the small break room eating lunch. I knew he was a philosophy student—like many others at the firm, recently out of college. Dawn always warned me about philosophy students: generally unhappy people, smug, at times combative. Perhaps it’s got something to do with knowing too much, the burden that comes with it.

So I prodded him on Kant because I never could take the time to understand him but felt curious, still. And he talked about the nature of perception, then linked it to AI and different types of bugs—but I couldn’t follow, and only smiled and nodded, with little to add. Then I wondered if he’d think about that lunch after he heard I’d left, and if he’d feel anything, or care. Or would I?

I lay on the sofa in our den afterwards as the sun went down, mirroring the dawn with an equally dramatic display. And sent a handful of LinkedIn requests out, scrolling through the thumbnails and names, like playing cards of different suits. Made plans to see Brad at his cabin, will need to get a new laptop, too.

About pinklightsabre

William Pearse publishes memoir, travel journals, poetry and prose, and lives in the Pacific Northwest.
This entry was posted in identity, Memoir and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

28 Responses to The day I turned purple (2019)

  1. jefftcann says:

    Hmm, not sure I get the connection between alcohol cessation and belly swelling. I would guess things would work the other way. I just switched jobs last month. The feeling of freedom in that short in-between period is incomparable.

    Liked by 1 person

    • pinklightsabre says:

      Swelling goes down with cessation (the tide goes out). Yes, it’s incomparable. Good description Jeff. Thanks for reading! Bill

      Like

  2. rossmurray1 says:

    I’m back to work after 6 weeks, and I’m not sure how ai feel about that. In a sensese, it means I’m well. But this is the reward?

    Congrats on the new work. New is good.

    Liked by 1 person

    • pinklightsabre says:

      Ah, back to work. Give it some time, hopefully it will feel good again. Nice you were able to take that period to rest and recover, I hope. New is good, indeed and thanks for the congrats Ross.

      Like

  3. Tish Farrell says:

    Onwards and upwards. Hope the new job works out.

    Like

  4. Robert Varga says:

    I think many people will be able to smile and remember while reading this, very real thoughts and emotions when parting from an old job, or ending anything else. I wish you success with the new and your efforts on sobriety.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Different kinds of bugs indeed. The gray featureless kind and the kind that screw up code. 🕷

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Congratulations and ¡Buena suerte! in the new job

    Like

  7. ksbeth says:

    and while there is always a moment of wistfulness, it also sometimes feels good to close a door for the last time. best of luck when you open your new one

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Yahooey says:

    I Kant stomach the categorical

    Liked by 1 person

  9. I’ve always been awash with panic/fear when I start a new job. I hope you’re more evolved than I am on the matter. Philosophy students never really leave the university. They should just segue into teaching and leave the real world to the rest of us to deal with.

    Liked by 1 person

  10. Dave Ply says:

    That was one thing I always disliked about contracting, the transitions between jobs. The ends seemed harder than the beginnings. Perhaps it’s apt to start the new year with a new beginning – good luck with it.

    Like

    • pinklightsabre says:

      Happy new year Dave! Hope you are well, saw you started posting again recently and looking forward to learning more about the difference between whisky and whiskey. Yes, my situation is weird in that I was an FTE recently for a contracting firm but just decided to actually go back to being an independent contractor, and contract through my firm rather than work there as an FTE. Allows more flexibility to work from home, so it’s a good deal. And I’m loving the little lag I have between gigs actually…going to get out and enjoy more of this clear, January weather we’ve been blessed with. Thank god for the high pressure. Hope you’re well and thanks for popping by, buddy!

      Like

  11. joe grace panganoron says:

    That’s good. A NEW JOB FOR THE YEAR OF 2019

    Like

  12. That is so awesome. I think you might like the new blog I started as well. Please check it out, I am hoping for a new start to a better quality of life in 2019 as well. Good Luck

    Like

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