Dear Diary,
Not exactly a line I ever thought would make it onto my decentralized social media, but here we are. I’ve got nothing left to lose.
I got let go today. No warning, not that I expected one, but you know how sometimes you can just feel it coming? Adding insult to injury, they told me it had “nothing to do with performance.” Ironically, this was one of my best weeks. Honestly, the past few weeks were some of my strongest at this job. So yeah, it stung. They chalked it up to "the nature of the startup lifecycle," but let’s be real it’s just another casualty of the larger economic collapse happening all around us.
I was sitting here, in tears, trying to find meaning in the mess that became my life — all in a five-minute Slack voice chat.
Yeah, you read that right. Not even the courtesy of a face-to-face conversation. A five-minute Slack call. Cool! 2 replies
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Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, finding meaning. I like to look on the bright side. I like to believe that things happen for a reason, even if sometimes you have to squint through the tears to see it. Sue me for being an optimist.
Through the crying, through the gut-punch of it all, I opened Farcaster and got the sudden to write a diary entry.
It’s stupid. It’s beautiful. It’s completely paradoxical to post something so personal on a public platform, but that in and of itself makes it art, doesn't it? It even made me chuckle (while ugly crying) to type those silly little words at the top: Dear Diary.
And somewhere in writing this cursed little diary post, I found it, my sliver of hope. The glimpse of the silver lining.
The truth is: while I loved the paycheck and the work, it swallowed up my personal mindshare. I barely had anything left for myself. For my creativity. For the parts of me that don’t clock in or log on. 1 reply
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