I am seriously considering quitting my job come July (when my lease is up), moving to some shit hole dump, and just working at McDonalds. Or moving in with my mother.
I simply don't think I have it in me to keep this up. If I get a decent tax return maybe I'll lease a boyfriend to console me.
I just think 32 is a bit young to cry every freaking day because of your job. And now that my manager has seemingly turned tyrannical on me - and I'm really hoping it is based on a misunderstanding in my email and not a forever thing - I've just kind of had it.
My new goals include:
Honestly, I keep picking myself back up only to have someone throw me back down again. And I'm not Lisabeth Salander, that scrappy little hacker who just kept getting back up and fighting. I'm more the Victorian lady in need of a fainting couch to be honest. I clearly do not have the strength, skill, or emotional stability to do my job anymore and, considering that my job eats up, at minimum, 40 hours of my week, it's kind of a big part of my life and it is sucking everything good, colorful, and happy from me.
On Sunday I picked myself up out of my funk and went to the grocery store. After carrying my very heavy parcels (the bagger clearly likes to play the "how much can I fit in one bag" game) to my car and getting them settled, I turned the key in the ignition to be met with nothing. It was about four or five thirty in the evening and 23 degrees outside. I waited in suspense and with frozen extremities for about 30 minutes. But I kept my cool for the most part, until the motor club guy told me my battery just needed boost and that when I got home I should let it run for 10 minutes. Then I cried with relief as I thanked him. Drove home, made some food, and thawed my fingers and toes.
The next day I went to the salon for my hair appointment (inwardly thrusting my fist in the air with a hurrah when my car started) and enjoyed the color and cut. For some odd reason, I opted to take the highway home, which I almost never do. Wish I hadn't. Granted, I'm very pleased that I was not in the 23-28 car accident but it's difficult for even the most patient person to sit on a highway that has been turned into a parking lot for 90 minutes. Still, I think I did rather well, reminding myself constantly that I was happier to wait than to be in one of the cars (and they were all smashed up and awful and I kept clutching my chest and mouth in old lady fashion as I passed the wreckage). But I admit to being a bit annoyed because I was really, really hungry and I was afraid I was going to have to pee and there were no bushes. But, in the end, I made it home and the only part of my day's plans that had to be canceled was going to the laundromat. I will get there eventually but at least I had an excuse not to do laundry that day.
So you see? Little things keep happening and I'm doing a very good job at keeping my shit together and acting like an adult. But I think I was pushed to the limit yesterday when my boss literally said "You report to me and you will work on what project I tell you" after I innocently said "so and so takes care of that. If you tell me the specifics I will work with her". I think he may have misunderstood the part where I said "my help officially ends on x date" thinking I was telling him that I would no longer be helping but I haven't heard back from him since I responded three times (twice to that email and once to another). So who knows?
All this not-so-plucky-heroine knows is that she's had enough and it is time she damn well does something about it. Bull, prepare yourself, as I am about to take you by the horns. But if you gore me, that's OK, I can always leg it to Arizona and move in with my mother.
I simply don't think I have it in me to keep this up. If I get a decent tax return maybe I'll lease a boyfriend to console me.
I just think 32 is a bit young to cry every freaking day because of your job. And now that my manager has seemingly turned tyrannical on me - and I'm really hoping it is based on a misunderstanding in my email and not a forever thing - I've just kind of had it.
My new goals include:
- Find a new job ASAP
- Get through each work day without crying until I'm belted in my car (bonus points if I don't start until I'm actually driving away).
- Say as little as possible to people I don't like working with (read: say only what absolutely must be said and in the most polite and professional way possible).
- Say fuck off to all other resolutions until the crisis has passed.
Honestly, I keep picking myself back up only to have someone throw me back down again. And I'm not Lisabeth Salander, that scrappy little hacker who just kept getting back up and fighting. I'm more the Victorian lady in need of a fainting couch to be honest. I clearly do not have the strength, skill, or emotional stability to do my job anymore and, considering that my job eats up, at minimum, 40 hours of my week, it's kind of a big part of my life and it is sucking everything good, colorful, and happy from me.
On Sunday I picked myself up out of my funk and went to the grocery store. After carrying my very heavy parcels (the bagger clearly likes to play the "how much can I fit in one bag" game) to my car and getting them settled, I turned the key in the ignition to be met with nothing. It was about four or five thirty in the evening and 23 degrees outside. I waited in suspense and with frozen extremities for about 30 minutes. But I kept my cool for the most part, until the motor club guy told me my battery just needed boost and that when I got home I should let it run for 10 minutes. Then I cried with relief as I thanked him. Drove home, made some food, and thawed my fingers and toes.
The next day I went to the salon for my hair appointment (inwardly thrusting my fist in the air with a hurrah when my car started) and enjoyed the color and cut. For some odd reason, I opted to take the highway home, which I almost never do. Wish I hadn't. Granted, I'm very pleased that I was not in the 23-28 car accident but it's difficult for even the most patient person to sit on a highway that has been turned into a parking lot for 90 minutes. Still, I think I did rather well, reminding myself constantly that I was happier to wait than to be in one of the cars (and they were all smashed up and awful and I kept clutching my chest and mouth in old lady fashion as I passed the wreckage). But I admit to being a bit annoyed because I was really, really hungry and I was afraid I was going to have to pee and there were no bushes. But, in the end, I made it home and the only part of my day's plans that had to be canceled was going to the laundromat. I will get there eventually but at least I had an excuse not to do laundry that day.
So you see? Little things keep happening and I'm doing a very good job at keeping my shit together and acting like an adult. But I think I was pushed to the limit yesterday when my boss literally said "You report to me and you will work on what project I tell you" after I innocently said "so and so takes care of that. If you tell me the specifics I will work with her". I think he may have misunderstood the part where I said "my help officially ends on x date" thinking I was telling him that I would no longer be helping but I haven't heard back from him since I responded three times (twice to that email and once to another). So who knows?
All this not-so-plucky-heroine knows is that she's had enough and it is time she damn well does something about it. Bull, prepare yourself, as I am about to take you by the horns. But if you gore me, that's OK, I can always leg it to Arizona and move in with my mother.
I will be your friend if you move to Arizona. Just saying.
ReplyDeleteCould you get me a decent paying job?
ReplyDeleteI could probably get you in at Chase Bank doing mortgage stuff (not selling, the processing paperwork crap. Detail oriented).
ReplyDelete