I've always hated statistics.

I love words. I mean I LOVE them, with all capital letters. And as much as I love letters and words and sentences and paragraphs, that is how much I hate numbers and equations and all the specific and factual properties associated with them. In fact, my worst subject in college was statistics. I HATE statistics -- and now, my husband is one.

Mike was downsized from his job as a graphic/web designer/social media guru today. His job that he just started in August. His job that he really enjoyed. He was good at it; he could make telecom expense management sound interesting. Unfortunately, the company he was working for (until 1pm this afternoon) is struggling. Sales have been low, too low. Mike is not the first one they've had to let go. And he probably won't be the last.

He said his boss was unhappy having to let him go. She said it had nothing to do with his performance, just that she "is no longer being given the resources to fund his position."

I think we're both shellshocked, but not surprised. When Mike called to tell me the news this afternoon, I thought he was joking at first. After I hung up the phone, I went into full GO mode, making lists of things he needs to do, people he should contact. Then I put the list away. It can wait a few days while he catches his breath and processes it all.

This bitter pill has been made easier to swallow by the fact that they've asked him to turn in some proposals for freelance work. So there is some hope there. Another position he saw before the holidays (and considered with some interest before ultimately deciding he wanted to put his full effort into growing his impact at his then-current job) has been re-posted. He's already heard from a friend with a lead for some other freelance work.

So we're not devastated -- yet...who knows how we'll feel when the shock wears off. There is reason to be at least mildly optimistic. Plus, I still have my job and the few freelance blog writing gigs that I do each month.

And for the moment, we're finding humor where we can. When I picked the kids up from school today, Charlie asked if I could chaperone a field trip on a Tuesday morning.

"I bet Dad could do that," I said.

Then Robbie wanted to know if I was coming to school for 100s day.

"I think Dad might be there," I answered.

So I told them. "Dad was let go from his job today."

"Legos?!" yelled Robbie, our resident Lego addict. That was good for a laugh.

We'll keep looking for the laughs because they feel good -- and because you can't quantify them with statistics.

Clean sweep

I spent about six hours today cleaning out four closets, four dressers and a desk. Unfortunately, none of it was in my own house. Instead, my sisters, my brother-in-law Steve and I gathered at my parents' house to take on the job of cleaning out three bedrooms that are only used when we come home for a visit.

We started in my sister Angie's old room. She worked on one walk-in closet, while I dove in to the second. Considering that my parents have lived in this house for 16 years or so, we found some pretty interesting things, including:

• A sterile cup that held the metal screw that used to be in Angie's ankle after surgery for a soccer injury.
  
• Two sailor dresses from our annual sorority "Cruise Night" rush party
• About a dozen or so old dance recital costume and a nun costume
• My mom's senior prom dress (which we counted has been moved to at least seven different houses)
  
• A couple of Angie's kindergarten projects (mind you, she is 31 years old)
• More pairs of old underwear than I care to count
• Lots and lots of old pictures, one of which I'm going to scan and e-mail to AwkwardFamilyPhotos.com

In my sister Shelley's room, we found enough wrapping paper, gift tags, curly ribbon and gift bags to stock the North Pole for five years. Never again will I have my kids hit up Grandma for the annual wrapping paper sale. Shelley's closet yielded several outfits that once belonged to a now-deceased distant relative that my mom felt the need to take in. The only thing that could be worse than Mom taking these clothes and storing them in a closet for five years would be if Mom had actually worn them in public. Off to the Goodwill with them.

My brother Nick's old room actually had a few useful items in it, not too surprising since he's only 4, 6 and 10 years older than my kids. I snagged a couple of boxes of math flash cards (won't my kiddos be happy!) and two sport coat/pants outfits that may come in handy for the next time we have a wedding or a funeral to attend.

All total, we bagged up seven 55-gallon bags of trash and delivered eight 55-gallon bags of cast offs to the Goodwill. That's 825 gallons of stuff! We're going to list some of the furniture on Craig's List and a few smaller items on eBay.

I'm only heading home with a small laundry basket of items, which is one benefit of having never actually lived in this house. Just wait until Angie's husband eyes the three boxes of stuff she's bringing home.

It was a big job, but we had a lot of fun going through some of the stuff, especially the old pictures. So much fun, in fact, that we're looking for a date to come back and tackle the basement!