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The Five Stages of Unemployment

Monday started much like every other day for me -- at about noon. After taking care of some urgent business (watching the latest Desperate Housewives DVD with my wife), I was ready to tackle my day, or what was left of it. It was then that I received “The Call.”

According to my caller ID, the call was from the ABA. This was not surprising because, as usual, I was late in submitting this week's column. However, I was surprised when an unfamiliar voiced asked to speak to “Sean Carter.” The caller identified himself as the publisher, managing editor or some such title. I must confess that, at the time, I was much more interested in the big pot that was developing in my online poker game. That is, until the caller informed me that my weekly column in the e-Report had been discontinued effective immediately.

I couldn't believe it. I was being fired. Now don't get me wrong. I've been fired from many jobs during my career. However, in all previous cases, I didn't mind so much because (1) I was doing a poor job; and (2) I didn't like the work anyway. This time only the former was true.

I loved my job as a humor columnist, which basically consisted of rambling on about the events of my life and getting paid for it. It was like therapy, except that I was the one making $200 per hour and I got to lie on my couch 167 hours per week instead of just one.

As the loss of my weekly column began to sink in, I immediately went into the first stage of unemployment -- denial. “Hey, you can't fire me! I don't technically work for the ABA. I’m an independent contractor. So there!”

My denial quickly transformed to anger, which is the second stage of unemployment. “You have the nerve to fire me? Sean Carter? America's foremost legal humorist? Are you on crack? I'm the one who makes the e-Report worth reading! In fact, without my weekly column, you might as well just send out a blank e-mail each week! If I wasn't so far away (and currently on probation), I'd demonstrate what you can do with your crappy e-zine!”

While the person on the other line attempted to calm me (and alert building security to be on the lookout for a crazed black man in the lobby), I moved to the third stage of unemployment -- bargaining. “OK, OK. How about this? You only have to pay me if the column is funny. No? OK, how about this? If you let me keep my column, I'll devote each entry to what a great guy you are. OK, OK. Can I at least write a farewell column to my readers telling them how much you suck?”

Realizing that my bargaining techniques were about effective in this case as they were during my ten years of law practice, it became clear that no amount of begging was going to allow me to keep my column (and trust me, I certainly tested the limits of this theory). At this point, the fourth stage of unemployment hit me like a ton of bricks (or worst, one of my wife's "homemade from scratch" biscuits) – depression.

I had lost my "baby!" For almost three years, the only constant in my life had been my ABA column. In more than 130 weeks, I had only missed one deadline -- something that my lender wishes I could say about my mortgage. I would miss the routine. More importantly, I would miss my faithful readers -- the ones who write me on a regular basis to tell me how much they enjoy the column. I'd even miss my faithless readers -- the ones who suggest that I get a real job (and a life).

The depression became so profound that I begin to think about doing the unthinkable. That's right! I thought about ... about ... getting a real job. Fortunately, I was dissuaded from taking such drastic measures through the love and support of friends, family members and people familiar with my work as a lawyer. They assured me that my luck would eventually turn around (and that I couldn’t possibly find a malpractice carrier willing to cover me).

With that, I finally moved to the fifth and final stage of unemployment – acceptance. I accept the fact that I will no longer be entertaining thousands of lawyers each Friday morning. I accept the fact that I will no longer be able to tout myself as the ABA's Chief Humor Officer. I accept the fact that beating the hell out of the caller won't solve anything (nor sit well with my probation officer).

I also accept the fact that life can be funny sometimes (apparently unlike my column in the e-Report). Sometimes, our greatest setbacks are actually just set-ups for new opportunities. Therefore, I face the future with anticipation, excitement and several thousand unusable business cards, reading “Sean Carter, ABA’s Chief Humor Officer.” I told you that life can be funny sometimes.

If you'd like to voice your displeasure with ABA for canning your favorite humor columnist (yes, that's me), click here.

If you enjoyed this article, then you will love Sean Carter's new book, If It Does Not Fit, Must You Acquit? -- Your Humorous Guide to the Law.  The book may be purchased at Amazon.com or by clicking here.

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