From this moment

It only took a second or two, but what happened changed the course of my life, and has reverberated till this day. Reverb asks today, what was a defining moment of this year or a series of events? As you all know this year was full of them, but the moment that effected (and affected) me most took seconds.

There I was, peacefully spacing out and partly working on three things at once. In my office with the sunny, sliding glass doors and the beautiful view of the neighboring building's wall, I sat with the heater on trying to get warm. It was forever cold in my office, despite the seasonal weather outside. Piled in the corner were boxes for an event I was organizing, and I had just gotten off the phone with the caterer, preparing for a tasting the next day.

My office mate was out for the day, so the only sounds in my office were the low hum of the radio; more like white noise taking up a portion of my brain. I checked email again, and glanced at Facebook, avoiding the massive spreadsheet on my screen.

Then he walked in. "This isn't working. I need you to go talk to David." And out he walked. A second, a moment, that's all there was. I didn't know what to think. Just last week he told me I was doing a great job, so I wasn't sure what the reprimand was referring too, but I had a feeling, a feeling deep in my gut that something was really wrong.

I walked two offices over to HR and closed the door. I sat in his black leather swirly chair, and said plainly, "I don't know what just happened. What just happened?"

"Anne, we have to let you go."

Let me go? Let me go where? What would happen without that space behind the big oak desk? "We won't contest unemployment," he said. "Let's go get your things."

And so I walked out. In minutes it was over. I was in my car, weeping for the first time in months. I was stunned. Everything would have to change. Even with unemployment I wouldn't be able to stay where I was; I would have to move in with my dad. Medical insurance companies would deny me medications, and I would have to desperately hunt for the pills that keep me alive. My dog would go to my mom to live, along with my car. I wouldn't find a job in this economy. I wouldn't be able to keep my life. Everything would change.

And everything did change. Now, I sit here on the beige couch under the single floor lamp ignoring the spreadsheet of jobs in front of me, and occasionally glancing at Facebook. I've been unemployed for 4 months, and I've worn a spot in this couch. Everything changed.