“Sure do,” I said, smiling at Stan, who I had always thought was an asshole.

“It’s funny, is it?”

“A little bit, yes,” I said, continuing to smile.

The HR man chimed in before Stan, who was on the brink of erupting, could reply.

“Well, Mr. Brown, we appreciate your six months of service to this company,” he said, looking very uncomfortable. “But we’re afraid we’re going to have to let you go.”

I counted the months in my head. I had started in November and it was now the beginning of May. He was right, I had only been there for six months.

“Sounds good,” I said. “Is there anything I need to do before leaving? ”

“No. We’ll be sending your final check in the mail. You can expect it in two weeks.”

“And the overtime I’m owed?”

“And the overtime.”

“Wonderful,” I said. I stood, winked at Stan, then walked back to my cube.

“Well, Linda, my darling, it’s been real.”

“Oh no, that’s it?”

“Afraid so,” I said, grabbing my bag and filling it with stationery.

“Hell, Stratton. I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t be. This is the best thing that could have happened. I’ll be able to collect unemployment and live the good life for six months. It’ll be a nice vacation.”

The head of HR stood outside my cubicle while I finished.

“Have everything?” he asked.

“Yep.” I bent over and hugged Linda. “I’ll see you again soon.”

“Have a great day. Get some writing done.”

“Will do,” I said, then turned and walked out of the building for the very last time, and thank Christ for it, too.

2

I felt relieved I no longer had to report to an office every day, but I was also a little disheartened. I felt somewhat like a failure for losing this job. Don’t get me wrong, I was thrilled I no longer had to wake before the sun had risen, or sit in a sterile cube for eight straight hours a day, or walk into a building that, by pure virtue of its existence, killed off a little bit of myself each time I entered, but I still felt as though I’d let myself down.

I called Carolyn when I got home.

“Hey darling,” she said.

“This vacation business of yours isn’t working out too well for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Without you, I think my life tends to fall apart.”

“What do you mean?” she asked again.

“I’m home right now.”

“Okay?”

“I got fired about an hour ago.”

“What?” she asked. “Why?”

“Because I’m a fuck-up.”

“Stratton, you’re not a fuck-up. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just feeling like shit. At least I’ll be able to collect unemployment and devote myself entirely to selling the book and loving on you.”

“Will you be able to get unemployment?”

“Yeah, I shouldn’t have a problem.”