Goodbye, Good Old Job January 4, 2008

Today has been emotional. It was my last day on the job. I worked there for over 3 years and although I hated it almost the whole time, I miss it now – and it hasn’t even been 6 hours since I locked my little office for the very last time.
 
I’m going to miss my office, my own private space. I’m going to miss spending hours on the computer, on the internet specifically, checking up on my bank accounts and my credit card balances, hitting the reload button every five minutes to see if any new emails have come, reading useless, random stuff… I’m going to miss the independence, doing my own thing, working with little guidance, having the office to myself most of the time. I’m going to miss my boss. He was by far the BEST boss ever and I know I am NEVER going to be lucky to get another boss as great as he was.
 
Oh, I really had it good at my old job. I was really comfortable with what I was doing. I felt like I was in my element – on my own mostly, no pressure, few deadlines, just taking it easy. Every week I had a day off, Mondays usually. For the amount of work I did, the pay was decent. Save for the long, oppressive bouts of boredom, which drove me insane (and sometimes even triggered suicidal impulses), it was pretty much paradise at work.
 
Now it’s all over and I can’t believe I took it all for granted. I can’t believe I whined so much about how bored and miserable I was with it. On Tuesday I’m starting another job, a temp-to-perm one this time, with an American company (I was blessed to have worked at a European organization), and I can already see how drastically different things are going to be. I’ll have to be at work every single day, 1 1/2 hours earlier and ON TIME, for longer hours, and I will actually be BUSY, running around doing all kinds of things, I imagine, rather than quietly, comfortably sitting at my computer all day long waiting for time to pass. I can say goodbye to dallying around on the internet or on the phone, sneaking out of work early to go to the movies, or enjoying a siesta while the boss is away. I will finally know the meaning of work as those bloody workaholic Americans know it. (Will somebody, something, a hate mail, a snow storm, a non-functioning traffic light, an accidental lethal combination of vitamins and allergy pills pleeeeeease kill me before Tuesday?)
 
I’m dreadfully scared. And sad, too. I don’t like change. I want my good old job back. I need security, familiarity. I’m going to this new job, which I really don’t know much about, and I’m so terrified at the prospect of being around new people, doing new, challenging things, and having no place there to hide or find comfort. At the new job I will have to deal with people, something which dead people are probably better at than I am. The new boss will most likely not be as cool, laid-back, patient, and understanding as my old one. Sooner or later everyone will realize they made a big booboo in picking me. 
 
I don’t know why they did that. What a grave mistake. Did I do that well on the phone interview yesterday that they didn’t think anyone else fared better than I had? I find that impossible to believe. I shouldn’t have taken that Xanax one hour before the interview. I shouldn’t have been that relaxed, that friendly, that unusually verbally articulate. Who the hell was speaking on the phone? For Christ’s sake, I am a socially anxious, stuck up, awkward, reticent wallflower. I am not cut out to be an executive assistant in a customer-service oriented environment. I belong in a hole. This cannot be real. 
 
I shouldn’t have prepared interview questions and answers in advance and consulted them as I spoke to the interviewer. I shouldn’t have had my resume, my current job description, and everything relevant to my current position all laid out in front of me either. It’s all a cheat. A fraud. A big scam. A HUGE mistake. And it will all blow up sooner or later.
 
I should have failed; that’s what I am used to. That’s what I do best. Success is so foreign to me. I’m a failure. Where did this sudden, unexpected burst of success come from? What did I do to deserve it? I expected to go days, weeks without a job. This is so terrifyingly bizarre that I would have something lined up so soon.
 
If I somehow convince myself not to listen to the voices that are telling me as we speak not to show up at my new job on Tuesday, I am certain the people there will quickly realize I’m not the right person for the job. I’m ready for it, crossing my fingers for it, but what a humiliation it will be to show up there and disappoint like that. I so hate disappointing people; it disappoints me tenfold.
 
I wish I could turn back time and make sure this never happened. All I’d like to do right now, other than bawl my eyes out in panic, is to crawl into a tree hole and hide there for milleniums until this has all passed and my memory, and the memories of all the people involved, have been wiped clean of every trace of this unfortunate occurrence.
 
Am I out of my mind for not congratulating myself at having been accepted for a job, for not being thrilled at the idea of getting a paycheck soon, for wishing I had failed? How can one possibly be in a celebratory mood under the circumstances? I feel like the end of the world has come and Judgment Day will be here on Tuesday and I will fail and I will be punished and I will go to hell and I … could go on and on in that doomsday trajectory because I don’t know what else to do so I’ll just shut up and pray for the worst…