Two Corns Passing in the Night

If you weren’t aware, (how could you not be) the amazing and wonderful Hyperbole and a Half has come back to us with two consecutive posts on two consecutive days and you need to go read yesterday’s (today for me) post right now, because if you don’t what I’m about to say won’t make much sense, also spoilers.

I have had that corn moment. It’s like the random symmetry of the universe brings together a woman and a piece of corn at the exact same place in their respective human/grain lives and all of a sudden you find yourself staring directly into the soul of an inanimate object which you are somehow more able to relate to than any human being you’ve ever known. And the resulting biofeedback loop is fucking hilarious. Because aren’t we all just piles of matter decaying under the fridge of our collective fate? I can’t remember what my piece of corn was, but it was amazing and no one got it. Actually I think it may have been a bug. Maybe a dead bug. Maybe I’m making this up.

Anyway, I had to go to work today, and I have to go back tomorrow. As I told my co-worker, this is strangely like that time in 6th grade when I accidentally got an incredibly attractive and fashionable haircut. Suddenly I am visible to the rest of the inmates, and I’m not sure I don’t prefer my previous anonymity. I was all excited to start this new life where ANYTHING COULD HAPPEN OMG and then I just went through an entire day of people stopping at my desk to look sad at me, and people stopping in the halls to look sad at me. I mean, I’m sad too, I will miss all those people and I agree that we did some really great work together, work I’ll be proud of maybe for the rest of my life. But it’s just bringing me down.

And when I tell people I’m trying to see if I can support myself freelancing, nobody seems really interested in the idea. They think it’s an unwise move, or that I’m adorable.

Granted, I am really precious. But this is serious. I’ve had to hustle work for myself for basically my entire life. When I got this job, I thought I was going to be able to relax and let somebody else find the work. My long struggle was over, I was now on the company dime.

But the truth is that I couldn’t turn it off. I just pushed and pushed for projects and work, and did all this extra stuff for no extra money until I was half crazy. I mean, I learned a lot and accomplished a lot and I’d never take it back. But then, despite all my hard work, I got brushed off into a corner to correct grammar mistakes for a year while I tried in vain to convince myself that my contribution still mattered. Or alternately, that my contribution mattering or not mattering was just a function of my ego and therefore irrelevant. Also, I planned and attempted my escape.

There was a lot of movement, but ultimately things didn’t really go my way.

And now I feel very sad and not at all motivated to work towards my dream of never again being in a position where other people get to decide what I do, when I do it, or even if I am employed or not at the end of the day.

I’m not sure which of the K├╝bler-Ross stages of grief I’m in. Maybe depression, although I don’t recall anger or bargaining. Yesterday was definitely denial. “I feel really blessed.” Yeah, well, eat a dick past me. Things just went from bad to worse and you’re over there in yesterday, daisy chaining with hope and faith. Fuck that.

It has occurred to me that I may be in anger now. That means depression is ahead of me?