I was terminated from my job on Friday. I’m still a little salty about it, but my mood has cooled quite a bit from Friday evening. Friday evening, if I had the powers to do so, I know of three men who would have become eunuchs before they could grab their non-existent nether regions.

Saturday was my day to cry. I cried out of anger. I cried out of frustration. I cried out of sadness and worry. I just cried.

Today, I wrote-up a timeline of events for my local unemployment office. I reviewed and culled emails supporting how good of a job I was doing, how willing my assignments were to work around my schedule, how willing my back-ups were to help. I recounted the mixed-signals, the lack of communication, and the fact that the issues for which I was terminated were present within months of being hired and the challenges that created those issues were just starting to resolve… The timing of this termination is just very, very odd.

I am sad because I can clearly see how bad of a fit this job was.

I am hurt that the one person who knew how good I was before I started there – the one who got me the job – did not fight for me. We had our ups and downs this past year, but I thought we were on good terms over the last few months. Still, he’s the only one there I trust enough to use as a reference. The other two clowns I busted my butt for would throw their infants under a train if it benefited them somehow. (Insert joke about how all attorneys are like that here….)

I am worried for the future because the official reason for termination – attendance and tardiness issues – could be deemed enough to deny my unemployment claim. Sure, that’s why I wrote-up the timeline. I’ve read the controlling statutes and there is room to allow the claim, but what if they don’t do that? Yes, I have a series of emails and other documentation that I have saved over the years. But in the end, it’s still the word of a depressed, fat, uppity piece of white trash against a that of a “well respected” firm. I don’t have the kind of money necessary to hire an attorney and fight this thing tooth and nail.

And how do you objectively prove the intangible? That I could feel how much my administrative manager disliked me since our first conversation? That I could sense the disingenuous nature of my most recent assignments, who was “deeply concerned” about my “reliability” in light of the schedule accommodations I received as part of intermittent medical leave. That it was demoralizing to bust your hump for the people you’re supporting at work, only to be told it’s not enough? It’s never enough? To have potential solutions – job sharing, working from home – refused right out of the gates?

I’m frustrated because I know exactly how this will be spun by management, and I know my side will not be presented. That’s probably my biggest trigger right there. My mother did that a lot – misrepresented me to teachers, doctors and others, and then denied me any chance of correcting the narrative. I was always a “problem child” with “anger issues” who was frequently “out of control.” But she rarely included the parts where she exploited my illness for financial gain, how she manipulated me out of thousands of dollars after my father died…

But more than anything, I’m just disappointed. I’m disappointed that all of the time and energy I invested in this job – in these people – were all for nothing. My investment did not yield anything but pain, anger, frustration and regret. With financial investments, losses are painful but money can always be earned again. Time, on the other hand, cannot.