After the Storm

After way too long not committing ink to paper, now is the time to get into that commitment. Having gone through one of the worst times of my life, it's time to find the words that will help quiet the mind and give some structure and possible closure to the random thoughts that continue to wind through the halls of my mind. And, as most blogs go, this will be the spot to plunk all the "important" thoughts -- the Profound Thoughts -- that only I can think! This will be page 1, part 1, of that great American novel that lurks in my soul and makes itself really known every time I read someone else's grand novel...if only.

So, the Worst Experience: I've never been fired before. Never. So now, just months from long-anticipated retirement, I get the ax from the only job I've ever held for longer than 5 years. Unbelievable. And the reasons for getting fired were that I'm a vixen, someone who would sexually harass an innocent, naive, home-schooled and uneducated blond lad from Terra Haute, Indiana. Oh, that and the fact that I was probably going to abduct his kid. Truth is, I'm not a dangerous person and I'm definitely not a vixen. He definitely is naive, but apparently not as naive as he looks. My current theory is that he's got someone behind him pushing him to make charges, to get people in trouble. This fellow, a man of the cloth, gives the appearance that everything he does has the blessing of God, that he couldn't do anything wrong or have an evil thought in his head. That blond hair and those clear blue eyes will carry him through a lot of stormy seas in his future.

So let's also look at the women of the executive management team who don't have much foresight, who fear for their jobs more than they believe in what is right. They worked diligently to co-opt the lower-level supervisors to shut their mouths, voice nothing of support, and quietly shake their heads in acceptance of what was steamrolling through the room. These women were willing to cash in a good employee and accept the lunatic ravings of the little dude from TH, Indiana. Loyalty be damned, they had a job to do, and that job was to save their own jobs from potential damaging impact in case the little dude from TH, Indiana, decided to let his muse lead him even further down this path, toward the hallowed courtrooms to put sexual harassment and the hospital and the women -- and me? -- on trial. Oh, if only he could have done that, he could have sued the hospital for plenty of money, leaving his little paltry job with the little-church-in-the-wildwoods that he was associating with. He could have gone on to bigger things, he could.