Wednesday, December 02, 2009

The Rock

I look back at who I was […] and it’s like, “Who are you?” … I recognize him like a stranger in a fog; no, he looks like an angry insomniac jogging in the middle of the street at 3:30am. It’s the mentality that doesn’t check out. Something was clearly wrong with me but my worldview didn’t permit me to see it. I wasn’t cracked-out, I was “working my ass off”. I wasn’t arrogant, I was “awesome”. I was peaking on a high I couldn’t imagine coming down from.

  —Jake Lodwick's Blog

As the days of unemployment tick past, I become more and more convinced that this description fits me, prior to the layoff, all too well. I was thoroughly convinced that I was accomplishing great things, both for myself and for the company. I worked long days, long weeks, long months; I sacrificed friends, family and free time. I did it all willingly, thinking I was actually moving forward. I added features, I fixed bugs, I structured the code, I improved performance. I was expanding my skills, building my resume, making up for lost time and earning more money than I'd ever thought possible.

"The rock is going to fall on us," he told the magistrate
"I believe that we can stop it, but the time is getting late.
You see, I've done all the research. My plans are all complete."
He was showing them contingencies when they showed him to the street.

  —"The Rock" by Harry Chapin

Of course I was enjoying myself. The constant mental challenges kept me so hyper-focused that I barely had time to notice stress, depression or illness. I felt nigh-invulnerable. I could accomplish anything, and they couldn't live without me.

I was high.

Now that I have nothing to do but sit around and think, I can see the problem with the mental frame in which I then existed. Four months later, I have nothing to show for all that effort but 25 lines on the first page of my resume. No money, no stock, no interviews and no respect. As far as the rest of the world is concerned, I accomplished nothing.

He went up on the mountain, beside the giant stone.
They knew he was insane, so they left him all alone.
He'd given up enlisting help, for there was no one else.
He spent his days devising ways to stop the rock himself.

One night while he was working, building bracers on the ledge,
The ground began to rumble, the rock trembled on the edge...

"The rock is gonna fall on us! Run or you'll all be crushed!"
And indeed the rock was moving, crumbling all the dust.
He ran under it with one last hope that he could add a prop,
And as he disappeared, the rock came to a stop.

The people ran into the street, but by then all was still.
The rock seemed where it always was, or where it always will be.
When someone asked where he had gone, they said, "Oh he was daft,
Who cares about that crazy fool," and then they'd start to laugh.

But high up on the mountain, when the wind is hitting it,
If you're watching very closely, the rock... slips... a little... bit.

  —"The Rock" by Harry Chapin

If I was supposed to learn a lesson from all this, I still haven't found it. Could I have done something different to keep my job? I have no idea. Is there some way I could have ensured my future employment? Um... like what? Would I do it all again in the same circumstances. Hmm... yeah, probably so.

As useless as it all was, I'm still proud of what I did. Not because of what I accomplished, but because I refused to give up. I'd rather give everything I have and fail then do a half-assed job and succeed. That may be short-sighted, but it beats hell out of losing what little self-respect I have. Was it worth it? Pfft. I'm not even sure I understand the question.

Slartibartfast: "Perhaps I'm old and tired, but I think that the chances of finding out what's actually going on are so absurdly remote that the only thing to do is to say, 'Hang the sense of it,' and keep yourself busy. I'd much rather be happy than right any day."
Arthur: "And are you?"
Slartibartfast: "Ah, no. (laughs) Well, that's where it all falls down, of course."

  —The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy by Douglas Adams