Free The Girl's Guide to Homelessness by Brianna Karp

What will they do? Where will they go? Liz looked uncomfortable and then continued. “I’ve already spoken to Kailea and Sandhya in the HR department, and now you…” My face crumpled like paper as the impact of what she meant hit me. I sobbed as if my best friend were dying. Liz reached out and grasped my hand, tears filling her eyes.
    â€œI am so, so sorry, Bri. Truly. And I want you to know that this is not because you were a bad worker. You have the ability and the willingness to constantly try anything and everything to succeed. And I have the feeling that perhaps in the future our paths may cross again.”
    I nodded, vainly attempting to get a grip and suppress my spastic snuffles. I was ashamed that I couldn’t handle this in a more adult manner. I hadn’t heard a peep from Kailea or Sandhya. Then I realized, Oh my god, Sandhya just had another baby.
    Liz went on to explain the layoff process. I would receive a generous severance bonus of six weeks’ pay. My last day would be in two weeks, but they were willing to allow me to take those two weeks off with pay in addition to my severance. The other employees had opted to accept this offer. I felt awkward about the arrangement, though. Who would do my work? I wanted to know. Who would finish the projects in my inbox? I took pride in my work. I didn’t want to leave a mess for somebody else to fix. It was the most bewildering thing—my main fear was whowould get stuck cleaning up after me. I left work and drove to Dennis’s house, bawling, in need of consolation.
    I came into work the next two days. I ground my fingers to nubs, boxing up my beloved collage, returning my cubicle to its bland, standard grayness and methodically completing the tasks in my inbox. I would learn that I was the only employee who had offered to stay the remaining two weeks. On the second day, one of the HR managers called me into her office.
    â€œYou don’t have to stay the two weeks.”
    â€œI know. But I need to finish my stuff.”
    She chewed on the inside of her cheek for a moment. “You need to start worrying about yourself, Bri. You’ve always worried about everybody else around here. Now you need to think about you . It’s hard out there right now, and it may get much worse very soon. Use those two free weeks to look for another job. Nobody here will think any less of you if you leave your tasks unfinished and take the time off.”
    She was right. I knew she was right. But dammit, couldn’t she understand the hurt, the shame of having failed? I may have lost my job, but I couldn’t fail. I had to prove my work ethic to myself as well as to the company that had laid me off. I had to prove that I didn’t deserve to be laid off. So I did the only thing that I could do. I agreed to leave at the end of the day and accepted the severance check that she cut for me. Then I stayed hours past five o’clock, finishing the final scraps of work on my plate, bolting out the back door through the lunchroom, one last look back at my beloved desk, an empty slate.

Chapter Four
    H aving lost my job, my thoughts shifted, focused on continuing to make the $1,500 rent payments on my cottage. This is Orange County, after all; $1,500 is quite decent, even for an apartment, much less a little house.
    I filed for unemployment benefits and was approved for the maximum—$450 a week. I suppose there should have been some consolation in knowing that I was receiving the same amount in unemployment benefits as, say, a laid-off CEO. But there wasn’t. The total monthly amount was barely enough to cover my rent, let alone utilities, a hungry dog and a horse.
    Yes, a horse.
    Growing up, I had been fascinated with horses. I wanted one more than anything, or at least to take riding lessons. My mother refused. Horses were dangerous and expensive, she told me. I was allowed to ride a bombproof old trail horse once, on a family