BREAKING NEWS: Hold That Thought!

Three posts in one day - Sara must either be REALLY bored, really chatty or ...

She got laid off.

(Side note: I always wanted to be one of those people who blogged about something as it was happening - well, here you have it, I'm in "process" - haven't signed the final forms, or received the final information, so it's truly "in the middle of breaking news.")

Yes. Second time in 4 1/2 months. This time is alternately worse and better than last time. I can't decide yet. I don't have enough information to process everything. Everything is up in the air. It will prove to potentially be a great thing, but anyone who knows me knows I absolutely cannot stand the unknown. How I've gone twentysomething years without giving myself an ulcer is a medical mystery and a miracle of monumental proportions.

So. Himself has a job. Making not what I was making, which wasn't *quite* enough to relax and say "we can survive on one income." And I don't. I need to be panicked. I need to be freaking out. I wouldn't be panicked except who on God's Green Earth hires someone due in 7 weeks? Really. Don't give me the schpiel about it being a protected class and a temporary disability. I worked in the HR industry for about 4 years - I know the game. I've seen it played. I've heard it admitted in the inner sanctums of corporate discussions. The ones which the EEO people aren't privvy to. People don't hire pregnant people. Especially not this pregnant.

Except I'm not. Because I don't have enough information to be panicked or freaked out yet. Because I might be doing something else - taking an equity stake in another start-up. Or not. Or starting on my own (that freaks me out in 1,000 different ways, even though it's what I've wanted my entire life). Or not. Or carrying around a letter of introduction, a bit like a homeless woman with a reference to soup kitchens, hoping that somehow people will think I'm just fat in an unusual place and not really 8 months preganant (though I don't look 8 months pregnant, even to me). It could mean greater flexibility when it comes to Baby Girl. Or not. It could mean more money, but probably not less - except during that oh-so-fabulous-time during which I'm unemployed. I haven't seen my severance check - it was referred to as a "final check." Final as in final paycheck or as in final paycheck plus a little something to tide you over? I'm praying it's the second option.

I have connections now. I know I took this job under divine guidance, and it was the right thing to do when I did. But, really. Can we just get settled? Can life stop throwing curve balls? This was supposed to stop when we moved. What happened to the "okay, I listened, let's get on with things?" part?

Holy cow. That's all I can say. Holy cow. Two layoffs, three different jobs, a move 2,200 miles away from anything familiar, pregnancy and its assorted madness, stressing about Himself finding a job ... remember that post about the experts and what they say? One major change a year? I'm all for it - except the pitcher keeps throwing unexpected curves and I can't quite make it to first base.

I'm trying to remember to breathe here while I'm rambling on and on and on. I seem to remember oxygen is an important part of Baby Girl's development. Food is as well, but I'm staring at my lunch and thinking that quite possibly, if I eat it, I will end up depositing it in some unfortunate place as the rest of my life unfolds this afternoon. So water and the apple and cheese I had hours ago will have to do for now. I'm trying to keep everything south of my neck from tensing up, but my abdomen keeps tightening up involuntarily and Baby Girl, who is amazingly in tune with my anxiety, is going beserk. (I've noticed that lately - she reacts instantly to my adrenaline levels - I'm going to give birth to a MiniMe - an adrenaline junkie).

Stay tuned. I can't even call anyone, because I can't say anything - not really, since it's a weird reconfiguration of sorts, and no one really knows what is going on. I sent a text message to Himself, who is on his way to the netherlands of the Frontier to pick up Son from his grandfather's - If he had done the same to me, I would have caused a traffic accident that would have made national headlines. He's a bit less reactive, a bit more rational, and a bit more patient, as he immediately called. I let it ring, then sent a message back that said, "I can't talk about it yet. Options. Could be good. Might not be." As if that is going to calm the man's nerves.

I hate raining on his parade.
I really, really hate not knowing what is going on.

I think I want a new life.