Four quarters equal a dollar. Every Friday I was so excited to get those four quarters from my dad. That was the beginning of my eagerness to earn my own money. When I turned 16, I got my first job working at a Carlton Card store, making a measly $5.15 an hour. Most of us can relate to that feeling of pride at a young age. Making your own money. Bringing home the moola. Since then I have worked at least one, most of the time two jobs to set myself up for financial security. In working these jobs, I take pride in saying that I have attained great work ethic. Unfortunately, most recently I was let go from a job that I considered my dream job. I was driving to get my nails done after a long day at work. Jamming out to my favorite music, I get interrupted by a phone number I know all too well, my job. My boss tells me that my position is being eliminated and has the audacity to give a snide remark in the process of telling me don't come into work tomorrow. I am speechless. I have never been let go from a position. I have always been used to managers begging me to stay when I have decided to move forward with another position. This has come out of left field. My face matches the weather outside, sullen and pouring tears of embarrassment and anger. I'm nearly to my nail salon and have decided to pull it together to get my nails done, knowing I probably should save this money since I am now unemployed. As I sit talking to my friend and nail tech, I fight back the tears as I press replay in my head of the conversation I just had. I am crumbling more and more as I get my nails painted the trendy color greige. I literally fake that my contacts are irritating my eyes because I can feel the tears start to pool. Finally my nails are done. Thank god for gel manicures because I know I would not be able to hold it in waiting for my nails to dry. I cry the entire way home. Looking into my rear view mirror as I pull up to my apartment, I realize I look like hell with my mascara running down my face. I knew I should have worn waterproof mascara today. Walking in the door, I decide to flop on the couch and wallow in my sorrow. Minutes later my boyfriend, Angel walks in. He immediately is in "what's wrong?" mode. As I try to tell him the situation while sobbing like someone had stolen my first Michael Kors bag, he looks me in the eyes and says everything is going to be ok. He is the comfort that I needed. Knowing I look like the devil's sister, I try to pull myself together. My boyfriend knows the there are a few things that will cheer me up almost instantaneously, shopping, food, and the Real Housewives. At the moment one seems to be the best option, FOOD! With a box of Kleenex in hand, we head to Chic Fil A, my go to fast food spot. After getting my all too favorite 8 count nugget meal, I am somewhat more at ease. On the way home, Angel consoles me and gives me all the advice a girlfriend could ask for. Fast forward two months. After showering the internet with my resume and applying at countless jobs, I am still unemployed. My bank account looks a couple numbers less than it was a few months ago, but I am learning to take this time to work on me and find myself. I have connected with my family more than I ever have in my life. It has made me realize my boyfriend truly is my rock and safe place. Even though he is in Virginia for training, he still finds a way to lift me up, one crazy meme and corgi video at a time. Steve Jobs said it best. "I didn't see it then, but it turned out that getting fired from Apple was the best thing that could have ever happened to me. The heaviness of being successful was replaced by the lightness of being a beginner again, less sure about everything. It freed me to enter one of the most creative periods of my life." I take this time to start a new chapter. Though I have fears of what the future holds, I know that I will rise to the occasion and come out happier and in a better place.