Daddy, make a picture

Last February I met with a PR agency in Stamford, about twenty minutes or so from our house. The owner of the firm made some vague suggestions that an offer was about to come and then nothing.

So this past Wednesday he calls out of the blue and asks me what I’m up to and would I come down to talk business. Turns out he lost a pile of business, gained a new pile of business but in the process he lost two staffers and now has a pile of work with no one to do it.

He just called me up and offered me a job.

I’m still in shock. It’s a lot of money - more than I was making before I was laid off in ‘01 - but I’m embarressed to say that living here with our mortgage and expenses means we’ll still be barely getting by.

So now I’m handing in my stroller and going back to work. At least I’ll be just down the road and I’ll still be dropping J off at nursery school on my way in.

We’re still a bit stunned. Obviously the implications here are huge. But first we both have to pick ourselves up off of the floor.