Today was my last day as an employee of Gibbs Smith, Publisher. (It's officially called Gibbs Smith now, but I always have to add "publisher" anyway to explain what the company is.) I didn't survive the second round of layoffs. The whole three years I've lived in the Layton-Kaysville area, I've been an editor at the Barn, so it will be interesting to discover a new life and a new me. I don't know where I'll go (if anywhere just yet) or what I'll do. For now I'll look for freelance editing jobs until I know exactly where I need to be.
This morning was pretty emotional, not only leaving my job but leaving friends and memories. I still feel twinges of those emotions when I think about not going back to work there. But I also feel a strange freedom I don't remember feeling in a very long time. There was so much responsibility and multi-tasking going on to juggle my 17 authors and all the other people involved in the making of their books, and now that is gone. When I left this morning, there were dozens of things I wanted to tell Madge, as if I were leaving my babies with a sitter. But the books are no longer in my hands. Someone else will figure out how to organize the table of contents and where to put the new avocado photo. And everyone will continue "to enrich and inspire humankind."
Suzanne did tell me one thing that gives me solace. She said that when she and Christopher presented the names to Gibbs of those who they were letting go, when Gibbs heard my name he said, "We can't lay Katie off. She's gold." I did matter and I do matter. They just had to lay off fourteen people, and I happened to be one of them. Two editors (me and a woman named Leslie) were let go from our department.
When I finally left the Barn, after taking four loads of books, baskets, and more books to my car and saying good-bye to everyone, Gilbert stood staring at me from the field, baahing as if he knew I was leaving for good. It made me cry harder. Good-bye, Gilbert.
