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  • Writer's picturemaggiehsmith07

Clown Club

July sped by with a whoosh. We began the month hosting company at our home and me having an initial interview with the CEO of a company that I’d join by the end of the month. In between, there was the whir and buzz of politics, me playing along to exit my old job (essentially, more politics), we bought a (new to me) car to upgrade my 9 year old Subaru, had work done at the cottage and Richmond house, & got Harry neutered. Mundane. Magnificent. And everything in between. You know - life.



Aren’t you glad that wasn’t a picture of Harry post op?


I began my new job the Monday after ending my old job due to the face Andrea and I had time off in August. And here we are - time off in August. We are in Massachusetts - which may surprise some people because I’m not sure I mentioned it. Surprise! It’s funny - I have two places I can return to that are both incredibly different and yet feel like “home”: Illinois and Massachusetts. Although I was raised in Illinois, it feels less like home but I still recognize it as such when I catch a glimpse of the flattened landscape from an airplane window, or happen past a cornfield that hasn’t had a strip mall dropped atop of it, or I take a deep breath and realize that I’ve come full circle and returned home to myself.


But Massachusetts. Well, that’s where that little girl from the Midwest really grew up. She went to therapy, learned about boundaries, got sober, lost shed a starter husband, met her wife, lost her friend to cancer and learned all the hard won lessons that can only be learned through a punch in the gut like that - one that knocks the wind out of you. She came into her own - full circle but like a ring on a tree - a new layer of “wood between the bark and the trunk each growing season.”


So maybe it was appropriate that I responded to a text I received at 8 PM eastern last night the way that I did. Maybe. But, spoiler alert, it wasn’t my best self who responded to the text.


I received a text from my former company asking me about an offer letter that had been sent yesterday. I’d like to remind you that I didn’t work there yesterday. I haven’t worked there for two weeks. I wasn’t the one who sent the offer letter. But there they (because he pulled in someone else) were asking me about accessing this letter. And I said, “Then ask that person about the offer letter. I’m not going to have access to letters they sent.” Which sure - I sounded kinda snotty. Not only was it 8 PM, but I’d been up since 4 AM (we drove to Massachusetts) and I hadn’t slept well the night before. I’m not offering this as an excuse - not for that. But maybe for what came next.


My tired brain thought I was saving these two contacts and labeling them. The reality was that I was naming the conversation and assigning a picture to it - both of which can be seen by all parties in the text conversation.


I realized what I’d done, too late, and began laughing so hard that Andrea asked, “What did you do?!” So I had to confess to her.


She gasped and instructed me to undo it. Okay. Sure. But damage done. Then, in a move of either increasing maturity or boundaries, I blocked them both because no one is paying me to deal with either of them and I don’t work for free.


“At least you didn’t do that when you still worked there.” Andrea later offered.


When I awoke this morning, it was with that feeling that you can get in your stomach that’s a barometer to your behavior. Oh right, Clown Club, I thought.


I don’t know - but what I do know is this…




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