Dispensable.

On Friday my boss called to tell me he had no choice but to shut down our little Honolulu office. San Diego lives on, but I am a Hawaii girl and need to stay put. So now that it's my turn to support the family for the first time ever, I go and get laid off... for the first time ever. It's time to get job shopping, which may well be the only kind of shopping that I am not good at.

Hillary says they must have discovered my week-old facebook habit. But that can't be it, as I only hit the hard stuff at night. It's unfortunate I cannot get paid to write on walls or fling food.

I told my parents the bad news via email. My dad's one-sentence reply: One door closes, another door opens. He's not even the family yogi, it's my mom who wears t-shirts with got yoga? printed upside down on them. I replied: Paint the fence, Miyagi-san. Haven't heard from zen-dad since.

Ramsey cheered me up when I came home puffy-eyed, snotty & feeling completely expendable. The first thing he asked when I walked in was Will you look at Sky's kindergarten homework and tell me if I did it right? There was a long pause before we both cracked up at the absurdity of the question. I checked, he did it right.

The thing is, I'm not sure I want to be an environmental scientist anymore. I really like the people I work with and will miss them, but it might be time for something different. My favorite part about my job is the editing and any writing I can get my hands on. I want a writer's job. Me and every other blogger. Or maybe I would do well in sales. I think clients would fear the motor mouth assault. I could verbal diarrhea them into buying my wares.

My mom replied with her own one-liner: Have you considered the oldest profession in the world? Unfortunately, I don't think that gig offers health benefits. In fact, it may offer anti-health benefits. But thanks, Ma.