September 3, 2020
Me:
I’m getting a car tomorrow. It’s a piece of shit.
Tom:
It looks nice.
Me:
Tom, this is only the second used car I’ve ever had in my life. I’ve always had new cars. I was always the shit driving a hot new car.
Tom:
I never had a car like that. I’ve only had used cars.
Me:
I almost wish I wasn’t getting a shit car, because it reminds me of all I’ve lost. Tom, I used to make over six figures. It’s really just hitting me, it’s really just hitting me. I miss my old life.
I miss not having to think about how much things cost. I miss wanting a $300 purse and just buying it. I miss never running out of money before payday. I miss sitting in a conference room with a bunch of people and talking and having everybody looking at me and listening intently to what I have to say. I miss how happy a client is when I turn over a user guide I’ve written. I miss sitting with front desk staff and helping them learn a new system. And I miss when, after they’ve been on the new system for two weeks, they tell me I was right, it’s not nearly as difficult as they thought. I miss staying up all night in the war room, working on an implementation, where somebody snuck in a bottle of scotch. I miss foraging for leftover Thai food in the office fridge at 9 o’clock in the morning. I miss the Starbucks run every afternoon. I miss learning so much about my coworkers they feel like family. I miss 3 am phone calls to the development shop in India. I miss explaining claims adjudication business rules to programmers in language they can understand. I miss explaining how the U.S. healthcare system works to my colleagues in Moldova. I miss drawing flow charts. I miss Excel spreadsheets, with formulas and filterable columns. I miss my issues list, and the daily review with the client. I miss checking things off my issues list because I’ve solved the problem. I miss expensive hotels and expensive restaurant food. I miss getting invited to a client’s child’s first birthday party. I miss having my laundry done for me, after it was picked up at the hotel, and later returned perfectly ironed and folded. I miss filling out expense reports, and marveling at how little I’ve had to spend on the road. I miss airports and even airport security. I miss my rolling briefcase.
Tom:
I’m sorry…
Me:
I am so fucking ruined from having had money. I’m spoiled.
Tom:
I don’t get to spoil myself often.
Me:
Well I’ll spoil you. Not with money, but I’ll pamper you and spoil you with everything I have. I guess… it doesn’t cost anything to give of yourself.
Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash