Life had been slow the past couple months. You know: full time job with wonky hours that require you to sleep during daylight hours. I haven't had a life in T W O and a H A L F YEARS. Literally. All I've done is work or have done the work and school combo. I guess that 5 days I took off almost two years ago could count for something, but not really. Anyhow, almost three weeks ago, the residential treatment facility I was working for, closed. There weren't enough girls to keep the program going - in fact, we were LOSING money - so the company that ran this program gave all of us the boot. A few people were able to find jobs within the company at other programs. I was nearing the end of my rope and needed to be done so I could find greener pastures elsewhere. At first, I was mad that they only gave us ten days to find jobs somewhere else. Then I was sad, then mad, then a weird combo of both. All at once, the five other stages of grief followed suit. I'm over it. M