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Not Fired

  • Writer: Katherine Tatsuda
    Katherine Tatsuda
  • 7 days ago
  • 2 min read

November 18, 2025

10:47pm



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I first heard whispers of a recall effort in January 2025.

An added layer of discomfort in an already uncomfortable season.

A quiet hum of threat beneath everything else I was carrying.


I didn’t realize how much weight it held—

how much space it took up in my nervous system,

how much it tightened my shoulders and hardened my breathing—

until today.


Because this morning, I woke up light.


Energized.

Clear-headed.

Thankful that this eleven-month journey might finally end.


So I did what I love.


I spent time with people who matter to me.

I trained my body like a fighter and broke personal records I’ve been chasing.

I had breakfast and caught up with people from around the community.

I delivered cake—cope cake—and shared laughs and stories with colleagues I respect and admire.

People who care about me texted all day just to say they were thinking of me.

Everywhere I went, people told me they voted no.

That they supported me.


At one point, I had a surprisingly delightful conversation with someone about international travel and bucket-list destinations—

one of those light, unexpected exchanges that reminds you how big the world is and how much of it there is still to see.


My mom called to tell me she was proud of me.


Later in the evening, my son made cookies, and gave me one.

A reminder that even on the big days, the ordinary moments matter most.

His TikTok cooking show experience is really paying off for me.


As the night settled in, I savored the quiet.

The peace.

The stillness of a moment before impact.


I wasn’t planning to follow the updates as they came in—

but then my phone started buzzing,

and buzzing,

and buzzing.


Updates flying in from everywhere.

People watching the numbers like they were watching me.


It looks good.

Breathe.

You’ve got this.

Breathe, Katherine. Breathe.

The margins look good.

Really good.


And in the end, they were.

The margins were more than good.

We won—decisively, clearly, loudly.


And then the texts poured in again—

from people I never expected to hear from.

People who wanted me to know they were relieved, or proud, or simply grateful.


It was a good day.


The work continues.

Tomorrow is another day.

But right now?


Right now, I am thankful.

Katherine Tatsuda

Author | Poet | Human

Based in Ketchikan, Alaska

© 2025 Katherine Tatsuda | All Rights Reserved 

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