Death is Like Getting Laid Off from the Best Job Ever

A Memo from the Department of Temporary Existence

Death is like getting laid off from the best job you ever had.

Except you spend a lot of the time complaining about it.

Like… you're there every day saying: "Ugh, this job of being human sucks. I have to get up early. My back hurts. I hate Mondays. When's lunch?"

And then one day your boss (played by God, the Universe, or sheer physics) calls you into the metaphorical office and announces: "We're gonna have to let you go."

And suddenly you're like: "WHAAAAAT? But I wasn't ready! I was just finally figuring out how the coffee machine works! And getting good at small talk with people in elevators! I love it here!"

And they're like: "Really? Because we have 47,000 hours of security footage of you complaining about everything."

Next thing you know, your life badge is deactivated.

Your access to the building (also known as your body) has been revoked.

That's life (and death) for you.

You get handed this incredible job of being human (unlimited snacks, flexible hours, built-in entertainment system called "other people")… and you spend far too much time complaining to HR… instead of appreciating that your gig here is an actual miracle.

In fact, if there were a job description for being human, it would sound pretty awesome.

Position: Human Being

Requirements: Seeking individuals to experience a full range of human emotions, including but not limited to: joy, rage, lust, the giggles, and that anxious feeling you get when you see your ex at Target looking happy.

Skills: Must be able to multitask crying and eating ice cream.

Experience: None necessary. Training will be provided by random strangers, most of whom are also figuring things out.

Commute: Just open your eyes.

Benefits: Sunsets that cost nothing. Taste buds that allow you to enjoy tacos, pizza and chocolate. Dogs who think you're amazing… even when you haven't showered in three days. And that thing where someone you love walks into the room, and your whole face changes without permission.

Performance Metrics: Be kind. Be brave. Don't be a jerk. Try not to break too many things, including hearts. Live true to yourself.

And we read all that and think: "Hmm, sounds kinda hard. Do I have to do ALL those emotions? Can I just stick with mild anxiety? And what does “live true to myself” even mean? I have no idea who “myself” actually is!"

Here's the thing that kills me most…

(Poor choice of words?)

Most of us treat our life like it's a starter job.

We act like we're just putting in our time until we get promoted to "Real Life." Or "when I'm happy." Or "when I lose ten pounds."

But this IS your actual life now.

You’re not in a Pre-Life Training Program.

You’re presently the CEO of your beautiful, one-time-only existence.

And yes, your job has a 100% termination rate. But it’s not personal.

Everyone gets laid off eventually. Even the kale-eaters. Even the optimists.

And the exit interview?

There isn't one.

Nobody sits you down and asks: "So, how was being a human for you?"

But if there WERE an exit interview… the questions would probably be things like:

• How often did you mistake being busy for being important?

• Did you notice that your coffee tasted different every single morning?

• How many sunsets did you miss, because you were inside arguing with strangers on the internet?

• Did you let yourself be weird? The kind of weird that makes people either love you more… or back away slowly?

• Did you spend more time worrying about your thighs… or appreciating that your legs could actually carry you places?

• Did you realize that everyone you loved was on the same temporary contract… and did you love them like it mattered?

• Would you recommend this experience to others?
  ○ Yes
  ○ No
  ○ It’s complicated

And in the "Additional Comments" area… most people would probably scribble:

• "Wish I'd read the fine print about how fast it all goes by."

So here's what I want you to remember:

You're currently employed in the most exclusive, temporary position in the universe.

You still have shifts left.

You don’t know how many, but you have some.

So stop spending your shifts muttering about the stressful human work conditions.

Start appreciating that you get to experience this weird, amazing gig of being a human!

Because one day (maybe tomorrow, maybe in fifty years) you're going to get that call to the Big Boss’ office.

And when you do, you want to be able to say you didn't waste your time here.

So try showing up a little more boldly each day… before you get escorted out of here.

Thoughts? Let me know below this essay!

Every 🧡 or restack, or comment you share…

is like handing me a coffee & saying “Keep going!”

So thank you, truly, for any encouragement you toss my way.

Plus I love morphing this into a 2-way conversation & getting to know you!

This essay is your gentle reminder to live BOLDLY while you’re still here!

However… this idea isn’t just a one-off essay.

It’s a full philosophy I believe in so deeply, I wrote an entire book about it:

Your To-Die-For Life

Learn more here!

Inside Your To-Die For Life I share a wide range of insights and strategies to help you to design a beautiful, fulfilling life. If you’re ready to start filling up your days with more purpose, connection, boldness and true joy… this book was made for you!