My career as I knew it just recently experienced yet another death in June of 2013. (R.I.P.) It all came about when this pre-middle aged woman who knows better made the mistake of taking to Facebook and airing out some grievances, much to my bitter shame. My co-workers were quick to point this out to my boss who decided this transgression was too great to keep within the office family. It was reported to my employer who then rewarded my loyalty and faith in the company by giving me the axe. And although I understand the reasons why it all went down, I can’t help but wonder if it was warranted. In fact, I researched the company’s social media policy and found no such violation, but que sera sera.
I went home that afternoon ashamed, angry, disillusioned, and shocked that 5 years of dedication and hard work had come crashing down on me so hard and fast. Like lightning, quick and decisive, my life had taken a very unexpected turn into oblivion. I spent the next week retrospecting, deciding that my 14 years in the industry had taken its toll on me and by a Sunday afternoon that June, I was seriously considering a career as a prostitute. I had always wanted to be a Lady of the Night. The beauty of it being, well, I really didn’t have to be intelligent to be successful and since I wasn’t getting laid on a regular basis, might as well get paid to do it. Plus I only had a few precious years till the sands of time shifted the beauty of this hourglass figure and allowed gravity to pull it down into an abyss of quicksand. When I mentioned this to my revered friends, Nic Hackett and Meredith Montgomery McKay, I got the “Yeah-that’s-a-great-idea” slow head nods that you knew behind them hid the truth that they thought I’d gone bat-shit crazy. In addition, I realized I couldn’t be picky about who I went out with and since I’m the type who has to have standards, that dream died as well. Not to mention the fact it could land me in the state penitentiary. So then I decided I should start an escort service. Ask my mother, I have been talking about starting a brothel since Heidi Fleiss got busted for not paying taxes. I mean how stupid could you be? Didn’t the catastrophic rise and fall of Capone teach us anything? My brain child would be a dating site where rich men paid and beautiful women went on for free. But when my best girlfriend, Charlotte Grant, and I researched it we learned it had already been done. There goes yet another blow to my esteemed career reboot.
Late June I started writing. Writing about past transgressions but focused mostly on the stuff that had happened to me throughout my career. I started realizing that, as I wrote, there was a feeling of freedom. I was smashing the individuals who had, as I felt, done me wrong and rewarded me and my good intentions with not a road paved in gold, but one gnarled and twisted with disdain and regret. I thought there were many great stories I could tell and just maybe, somehow, I could spin this spool of shameful thread into gold. I could offer great life lessons to up-and-coming professional women (and men..I’m not generalizing) and teach them what NOT to do. In writing I could council the masses of eager and bright eyed future professionals who had not yet tasted the bitterness of disappointment and also I would be fulfilling my doctor’s wish by getting psychological therapy by employing those who might get hooked on my literary tirades and adopt them as a weekly fix. I hope the world loves it..I will admit..I’ve had a lot of sinful fun along the way.