My inner child was having a doozy of a tantrum: Lying on the floor, she was screaming, kicking, crying.
She wanted her old life back!
Her job intact, just as it was before the first round of layoffs took away her dearest friend, Cheryl.
Those Tuesdays, working on the Tribune-Times (a weekly publication) with Mary, the editor, who loved to laugh as much as she did.
Evenings spent editing, choosing wire stories and photos to go into the paper, designing the open page 2A to her own standards of news judgment, then working and paginating most of the pages herself.
Evenings spent brainstorming, laughing and talking with her colleagues.
Home with the cats, the quiet, the books. Sometimes a fire in the fireplace.
Evenings with cherished friends, some of whom she had known for 33 years.
And, Greenville! She missed Greenville, especially the wonderful downtown, bustling and full of life. Ethnic restaurants springing up all over. Long, tree-lined Main Street, with its boutiques, statues, fountains.
So she raged, screamed and kicked even harder.
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