The healing process from a layoff, like an investigation by the Internal Revenue Service or the Securities and Exchange Commission, never quite ends.

The whole deal reminds me of something that Roger Angell of the New Yorker wrote on the occasion of the Philadelphia Phillies’ appearance in the 1980 World Series (he franchise’s first time in the big show in 65 years): Lifelong Phillies fans are like hay fever sufferers. They may feel better — but not for long.

You will feel better, too. You can talk bravely about not living in the past. You can resolve to bury the unpleasant past, too. You may even pull it off.

For a while, that is.

Mostly, you have to approach your life like a recovering alcoholic. Every day is a new opportunity to continue to make progress. If you blow it, you will fall off the wagon, succumb to the self-pity you have obliterated (or tried like hell to) and slip back into a self-defeatist, pessimistic way of life.

You have to have The Talk with yourself every bleeding day. You have to remember the wisdom of Stuart Smalley: I’m good enough. I’m smart enough. And doggone it, people like me. It actually helps a lot to say it Out Loud. Honestly.

QUESTION: What do you do when you think you might slip into pessimism.

(This is a part of a series, entitled “Me! Fired at 50: Now What” in parts 1-12, of my personal essays. Full disclosure: I am not exactly 50 years old on the dot (a hint: (look to the north). But, oh yes, I was recently laid off, along with a dozen other colleagues, from my job of more than 13 happy and productive years. The news jolted my happy and relatively sane Manhattan life. I am writing about what I went through — and continue to experience now — as a way to try and help people. Maybe you are dealing with all of this financial and emotional dislocation or know somebody in the same leaky boat. Hopefully I can help.)

Jon Friedman is the author of “Forget About Today: Bob Dylan’s Genius for Re-Invention, Shunning the Naysayers, and Creating a Personal Revolution,” which Penguin published in August 2012.

Who can forget the signature line in Animal House: Don’t get mad. Get Even!

The philosophy might work well in a Hollywood movie about warring frat houses in 1962.

But in the real world today? Not so much.

Be careful what you say — you never know who might be recording you (once, this was not known sordidly as wire-tapping; now, everyone’s doing it, as if we’re talking about party hijinks).

Be REALLY careful what you write, email, tweet or put in invisible ink, too. This is even more serous than speaking and spewing. What you write can last a lifetime.

Yeah, you have a right to curse the gods and the people who pushed you out the door. You got a break. Yada, yada, yada. Now, it’s up to you to pull the pieces together and move on. And by moving on, you leave he past in the past.

As the writer Robert Daley once wrote, the past is like a country you can visit — but you can’t stay there. Sometimes it is even wiser not not visit it at all.

They say, the best revenge is living well — and it is rue, too. Life is chock full of continuous personal, professional and family challenges. Our wits, intellects and senses are constantly under attack.

Two sayings come to mind: As Ray Davies of The Kinks sang on Arthur, a great album: If only life were easy/It would be such fun.

And as Woody Allen related in Love and Death: A soldier muttered fearfully, “God is testing us.” To which Woody’s character shot back: “Couldn’t he give us a ‘written?’”

Humor is a good weapon to employ when you want to attack someone with words (or fists).

Live a good life. That’s the best way to get even.

QUESTION: WHAT DO YOU DO WHEN YOU HAVE AN IMPULSE TO GET EVEN WITH SOMEONE?

This is a part of a series, entitled “Me! Fired at 50: Now What” in parts 1-12, of my personal essays. Full disclosure: I am not exactly 50 years old on the dot (a hint: (look to the north). But, oh yes, I was recently laid off, along with a dozen other colleagues, from my job of more than 13 happy and productive years. The news jolted my happy and relatively sane Manhattan life. I am writing about what I went through — and continue to experience now — as a way to try and help people. Maybe you are dealing with all of this financial and emotional dislocation or know somebody in the same leaky boat. Hopefully I can help.)

The Last Waltz turns 35 years old this spring. And the film of The Band’s farewell concert on Thanksgiving night 1976 at San Francisco’s Winterland theater still looks and sounds sounds as great as it ever did.

Here’s a look back, thanks to the Media Matrix blog of Indiewire:

http://blogs.indiewire.com/mediamatrix/the-last-waltz-at-35-still-the-best-concert-film-ever

It’s not personal. It’s business.

That’s one of the most important lessons to grasp — at first and then continuously — when you set out on your own.

Yes, it’s a rough scene. Your former employer has all but kicked you in the teeth. And unless you get extraordinarily lucky, you’re going to experience a steady succession of rejections from prospective bosses whether you’re hoping to get freelance or full-time work down the road. It’s not fun. Tell me about it.

Yet, these are the challenges that should inspire your clearest thinking. Remember, it (usually) isn’t personal. People aren’t secretly meeting somewhere in a room to talk about you and how they want to make your life (even more) miserable, just for their amusement. At least I hope not. If that happened to be the case, you’d be much more qualified to write this post from a rubber room someplace.

In The Godfather movies Don Vito and his son Michael never wasted time on feeling sorry for themselves. They blocked out their emotions and got the job done.

(I know, I know — you can’t exactly leave a horse’s head on the bedspread of your nemesis while he or she is fast asleep. For one thing, PETA, a much more vigilant foe than the Barzini family ever was, would find you and kick your ass).

And since it is all about business, much of the time you’re getting rejected for work, it has little or nothing to do with you and what you’re trying to offer someone.

Companies are having a hard time making ends meet these days. It’s no consolation, really, when they’re turning you away. But it does do some good to remember what is happening here.

You just have to keep at it.

QUESTION: Are you able to remember that it isn’t always all about you?

(This is a part of a series, entitled “Me! Fired at 50: Now What” in parts 1-12, of my personal essays. Full disclosure: I am not exactly 50 years old on the dot (a hint: (look to the north). But, oh yes, I was recently laid off, along with a dozen other colleagues, from my job of more than 13 happy and productive years. The news jolted my happy and relatively sane Manhattan life. I am writing about what I went through — and continue to experience now — as a way to try and help people. Maybe you are dealing with all of this financial and emotional dislocation or know somebody in the same leaky boat. Hopefully I can help.)

Once upon a time, I was working at a major media company in the 1990s. A young reporter at my company called me in a panic. He said he was freaked out about the task of doing an interview with some CEO.

One of my minor jobs in those days was to help young reporters at the company navigate their way through videotapes interviews. I happened to be operating under a strict deadline that afternoon of my own. But he said the counseling couldn’t wait and that he had to have my help right away.

Sigh. OK, I am a team player. We went through a mock- questions and answers and he was on his way.

“By the way,” I asked with genuine interest, “when will this interview take place?” I expected him to say — “Today at noon” or something to suggest a sense of urgency.

Instead, he said in his usual absent-minded manner, “A week from Tuesday afternoon — I think.”

Give me a break! I thought, though I actually blurted out, “WTF.” I asked him why he needed my help right away, when I had already made it clear to him that I was burdened with a deadline of my own. His interview wasn’t going to happen for days.

Couldn’t he have waited for a few hours?

The upshot was that his interview went fine. I got an extension for my deadline, and yes, I actually did give him interviewing tips again after that.

I later found out through the elusive grapevine that he was taking speed regularly at that time and had reportedly graduated to crystal meth, a great drug epidemic among respectable types of employees in the mid-1990s all over America.

(The drug abuser was found out and forced by his employer to take a paid leave of absence and get therapy, which the company agreed to pay for. Last I heard, he was back at work in journalism and contributed enough reporting to get his name on a bureau-wide journalism award).

I’m glad he made a comeback against tremendous odds. Who knows? Maybe I played a small role in it.

It’s gratifying to be a part of someone’s inner circle. Even though the guy put me out a little, what matters is that he found a way to pull himself out of the abyss. If he hadn’t, God knows where he’d be today. I wouldn’t want to think of it. Too sad to ponder.

Lots of folks who lose their job succumb to drugs or the drink. Some have genetic difficulties and can’t change fate. Some simply like to catch a buzz. Some want already to give up and turn to substances to give them a crutch and a reason, however shaky, to live.

One of my lifelong pals called me the day after my now ex-boss lowered the boom. “Get over here and we’ll get high and hang out in the city,” he offered. But it was noon — a little early in the day for me to stage my version of Jon Friedman’s Day Off. I didn’t want to slip into bad habits. I didn’t want a crutch. So, I declined. As I recall, we went out for pizza instead.

I’m happy to report I didn’t crumble and require an intervention. Everyone reacts differently. I hope people don’t ever feel a need to turn to dope or alcohol. That solves nothing.

QUESTION: WHAT DO YOU DO TO HELP YOURSELF WHEN YOU ARE TEMPTED TO CRUMBLE?

(This is a part of a series, entitled “Me! Fired at 50: Now What” in parts 1-12, of my personal essays. Full disclosure: I am not exactly 50 years old on the dot (a hint: (look to the north). But, oh yes, I was recently laid off, along with a dozen other colleagues, from my job of more than 13 happy and productive years. The news jolted my happy and relatively sane Manhattan life. I am writing about what I went through — and continue to experience now — as a way to try and help people. Maybe you are dealing with all of this financial and emotional dislocation or know somebody in the same leaky boat. Hopefully I can help.)

Did you see that 60 Minutes segment about those amazing dogs that are trained to sniff out terrorists’ explosives? They have a finely trained ability to sense what they can’t readily see.

You know what? People also have a well honed penchant for smelling something — desperation. My friends see it at the poker table, and job interviewers definitely recognize it, too. Nobody wants to be around someone who projects a sense of despair or desperation. Come on. Do you?

Desperation is one of the more ugly human conditions. Often times, it is unfounded because life tends to even out along the way and we regain our mojo at some point. It is the polar opposite of looking upbeat.

Desperation can manifest itself in many ways. For instance, I know someone who was working for a company for a few months as an independent contractor. The arrangement seemed unorthodox,as he had practically no supervision and did what he pleased. Stranger still, the head of the operation paid him by personal check — not one with the corporation’s title and address printed on it.

Sure enough, after a few weeks, the owner of the company informed the guy that the arrangement was over because the man didn’t feel like paying him any more. Just like that.

My friend felt wronged and sulked about it and then tried to revive the agreement — looking a little foolish and needy in the process. My pal should’ve simply walked away. But it’s tough — when you see the equivalent of a big fat wallet flying away. Just like that.

Fortunately, my friend has now moved on and is aggressively pursuing a contract to take the place of the one that was taken away from him.

Moving on is always the best remedy. Feeling or looking or being desperate is simply lame.

QUESTION OF THE DAY: What do you do to move on when despair sets in?

(This is a part of a series, entitled “Me! Fired at 50: Now What” in parts 1-12, of my personal essays. Full disclosure: I am not exactly 50 years old on the dot (a hint: (look to the north). But, oh yes, I was recently laid off, along with a dozen other colleagues, from my job of more than 13 happy and productive years. The news jolted my happy and relatively sane Manhattan life. I am writing about what I went through — and continue to experience now — as a way to try and help people. Maybe you are dealing with all of this financial and emotional dislocation or know somebody in the same leaky boat. Hopefully I can help.)

That great philosopher Wayne Gretzky, who also played a little ice hockey in his day, once said something that made me sit up and take notice. It may have been in a Time cover story when Gretzky explained his philosophy as hie greatest goal-scorer in National Hockey League history: 100% of the Shots You Don’t Take Never Go In.

I understand completely what he meant. If you throw the puck toward the net, it might hit a bump in the ice or deflect off someone’s skate. Or the goalie might screw up and let in a cheap one. The point isthat you have to take your shots when you get them and take your chances.

The same is true in pursuing freelance or full-time work. If you’re a journalist, why not try for the New York Times or NBC News? They might say no? So f’ing what?!

If someone says no (thanks), you can have the satisfaction of having tried — and nothing is forever,anyway. You never know.

I learned this lesson well a year ago, Last year, I was trying to drum up publicity for my book “Forget About Today: Bob Dylan’s Genius for (Re)invention, Shunning the Naysayers, and Creating a Personal Revolution”(Penguin, August 2012). I called, emailed and generally beseeched everyone I knew to write about it or put me on the radio or on TV. I learned the benefit of taking a shot along the way in a very telling slice of life.

A very kind friend of mine offered to put me in touch with the book-review editor of CNBC.com to see if the website would want to publish a review or a feature about my blessed volume. No dice. The editor nicely turned down the offer, and it seemed as if my chance of getting some pub on CNBC was kaput. Oh well, I thought, too bad. No big deal, though.

But my friend had another idea. She knew a producer on Squawk Box, the signature daily show on CNBC. Any author would kill to appear on the show. Sure enough. Squawk Box liked the idea, and there I was, last Aug. 8, bantering and kibitzing and parrying with Joe Kernen and Andrew Ross Sorkin (the popular Becky Quick was away on assignment that morning). I enjoyed the segment very much, and I’m sure it helped me sell books.

Again, the point is: Take a shot! If I had sulked and pouted after being turned down by CNBC.com,then I would never have had the grit to pursue the popular show on CNBC.

Life can be unpredictable, which, you know, is one of its charms.

QUESTION OF THE DAY: What do you do when one door closes?

Bob Dylan has received rave reviews for his current college tour. One writer described a “near-religious” experience at a concert in Bethlehem, Pa. It’s nice to see the fans enjoying Dylan’s music so much this time around. On his U.S. tour last fall, the reception wasn’t this effusive much of the time.

As we know, Dylan’s career has had its share of ups and downs. One of the constants has been the live albums that Dylan has released over the years, both in official and “bootleg-series” forms, presenting highlights from 1964, 1966, 1974, 1975, 1966, 1978, 1984 and his MTV gig (plus his appearance at the Concert for Bangladesh in 1971). I might have overlooked something here. If I did, I’m sure Dylan Nation will let me know — and without any subtlety.

All of those live albums were special. Each one captured Dylan’s performance at an intriguing point in his iconic career. It’s likely that we’ll eventually see “Bootleg” releases of the 1969 Dylan/Band Isle of Wight show as well as a concert or a collection of songs from Dylan’s 1979-81 gospel excursions. Those might have a higher priority than an album showcasing Dylan performing in the 21st century.

Of course, Dylan will — or his representatives — will put together a live album of new stuff if he and they believe there is a thriving market for one. Also, what kind of critical reception will Dylan have? Dylan has often gotten ripped by journalists for the weakness of his singing voice at times in recent years.

Who knows — he may be reluctant to issue an official document of his current state. Or he might not care. Again, the key question in every corporate venture is: Can we make a buck on it?

Time could be on Dylan’s side right now. A friend of mine, who has been seeing Dylan play in concert since the 1960s, caught his recent show in Newark, Delaware, and said he liked it very much. He loved Duke Robillard’s guitar work. He said Dylan wasn’t rushing the songs, as he had seemed to do in his tour last fall. He liked the stage versions of the songs from Tempest as well. “And yes, his voice sounded good,” my friend noted.

The man added: “All in all, Bob was in a zone that night.”

That observation sounds worthy of alive album, no? We’ll see. Time is a jet plane. It moves too fast.

JONFRIEDMAN.NET QUESTION OF THE DAY: Do you think that Dylan should release a live album from this tour to represent his recent stage show?

It’s great if you can emerge from your mournful meeting with the human-resources person with a smile on your face. It could be defiant, funeral, ironic or phony. The important thing is that you aren’t weeping and falling apart.

It’s even better when you truly mean that you have found a reason to feel cheerful. Best of all, you follow through on your self-reliance and make something of your immediate future in a brave new world. It’s all up to you to make a difference.

But what happens if you don’t? What if, as it turns out, you actually are full of shit and showing fake toughness? People may or may not see through your well honed facade. But you know who will know the truth — you will, of course.

The way it goes sometimes, the first cut is not necessarily the deepest. Getting laid off might not be the biggest blow to your ego. If you don’t take care of yourself, you’re liable to suffer further indignities. You might be fortunate (or shrewd) enough to get off to a quick burst out of the blocks. You might catch a break and surprise yourself by getting it done.

But can you sustain the momentum? That’s often the trickiest part of all. Valuable but ultimately unpredictable clients can decide to go away (that just happened to me) for no good reason. It’s difficult for your pride (and your bank account) but it happens all the time. And no, thre is not a damn thing that you can do about it, either. You have to accept it and move on.

I’m not suggesting that you have to pace yourself. It’s good to go all out as soon as you can. But you can’t get cocky just because you got lucky enough to cash in on your name recognition. You have to work it all the time — I repeat: all the time..

QUESTION OF THE DAY: What’s your strategy for sustaining your personal momentum?

(This is a part of a series, entitled “Me! Fired at 50: Now What” in parts 1-12, of my personal essays. Full disclosure: I am not exactly 50 years old on the dot (a hint: (look to the north). But, oh yes, I was recently laid off, along with a dozen other colleagues, from my job of more than 13 happy and productive years. The news jolted my happy and relatively sane Manhattan life. I am writing about what I went through — and continue to experience now — as a way to try and help people. Maybe you are dealing with all of this financial and emotional dislocation or know somebody in the same leaky boat. Hopefully I can help.)

Forgive the blunt headline here. I toyed with other, more subtle and mild phrases. But I kept coming back to this one because it…well, it makes my point. Succinctly. Concisely. Completely.

The point is that reputations die hard. What you do today will live on tomorrow and the day after and — forever.

Keep that thought in mind when you feel like telling your suddenly ex-boss that you think he or she is well, you know, an _____.

Remember the sage words of one George Costanza, when Elaine tells him and Jerry that she wants to quit her job. “I’m marching in!” she triumphantly declares, meaning that she is about to climb those golden stairs and tell her boss that she will be quitting.

“I’ve done the march in,” George shrugs. Then Jerry asks him about the march out (of the office). Not as good, he admits.

You may be raging when you get the boot. You have a right. But it would be counter-productive and stupid to let your anger get the best of you. What do you accomplish, anyway? Your boss ain’t going nowhere. All you do is make that person feel stronger and more powerful. Imagine his or her absolute delight in telling the gang: Oh yeah — that nitwit I canned went ballistic on me. It was … hilarious! You sholda been there! You would have died laughing at the spectacle of the guy losing his mind!

Don’t give the bastards the satisfaction. Take the high road. Restrain yourself. You’ll be better off in the short and long runs because you’ll walk out with your head held high. People will respect you. The boss will think a little more highly of you and, to be utterly crass about it, you stand a much better shot at receiving a strong recommendation sometime down the road.

Take care of No. 1. Always.

QUESTION OF THE DAY: What do you do to keep the lid on your temper?