Lo and behold, I am finally free from the shackles of the job from hell.
Four weeks ago, I submitted my resignation (with two weeks’ notice) in writing, but my boss insisted I stay and work on my introversion/social anxiety, which was the excuse I had given them for wanting to leave. Then, three and a half weeks later, they decided to fire me “take me up on my resignation” because they realized I was a hopeless case.
Hah! I’ve spent 28 years coping with social anxiety and avoidance issues; how foolish of them to think I would magically become more talkative and gregarious in less than a month.
Still, the news of the release came as a shock and was a bitter pill to swallow. It came as fast and as unexpected as lightning. After they had asked me to work on improving my social skills with my coworkers, things improved somewhat, or so I thought. Coward OCPD boss called me at half past eight last Thursday evening to tell me she was letting me go. She had been expecting bigger results and obviously I hadn’t delivered. Offering little explanation other than she felt it just wasn’t going to work out, she told me not to return the next day to finish the week off or pick up my belongings.
So here I am, unemployed again. Though I’m past the feelings of denial and anger, I’m still recovering from the rejection, which came so abruptly. I never saw it coming this fast. Boss had insisted that if things didn’t work out, she would keep me on board until I found another job. They needed me, she had assured me. On the afternoon of the sudden boot, we had spoken about it again and once more she had reiterated that offer to me. I was counting on that safe cushion. Like a fool I trusted her. When I was ready to walk out that door, the cunning viper sweet-talked me into staying and then, when I least expected it she delivered the backstabbing punch and fired me without notice, claiming that I had been right all along, that it was best they “take me up on my resignation, effective immediately.”
It was a crushing blow. It felt like my self-esteem had been beaten up to a pulp, my sense of stability yanked from under me and thrown into the wind. I’m slowly picking up the pieces, struggling to regain enough self worth, to dig into whatever reserves of hope and strength I’ve got left to get back into the job hunt.
Oh she sure had me on that one. They all had me on that one, they who conspired to get rid of me, they who must be smiling smugly as we speak. But if only they knew what RELIEF I feel to be rid of them as well.
I am a free woman. I’ve made it out of prison. I’ve made it out of hell. I can breathe again, be myself again. And as God is my witness, for as long as I live, I shall let no other job EVER take that freedom away from me again.
Freedom is Mine Again March 31, 2008
Untitled – Random Thoughts March 18, 2008
Why am I having such a hard time with randomness? I need to stop trying to organize my every thought and just write them as they come.
I love my new matching polka dot folder and notebook from Target. They’re so bright and colorful the sight of them almost makes me cheery.
I haven’t been loving life lately. I’ve been feeling awfully moody – and I’m not even anywhere near that time of the month!
I have a new secret crush. But I think it best not to pursue this. He seems like too nice of a guy to be dating a fucked up girl like me.
I’m going s@lsa dancing again this weekend. There’s nothing like dancing to make me forget, even if only for a moment, how unhappy I am and how fed up I am with my existence.
I am quite tempted to whine about how miserable I feel, but that could take several hours and it wouldn’t be pretty.
I need to be in bed at 10 p.m. tonight. Being sleep deprived isn’t exactly helping my moods.
I want to live on a deserted island by myself for the next twenty years or so. I’ve had it with human beings, cats included.
I wonder if they sell life size blow up dolls for women. I could use a blow up boyfriend right now. Someone to hold in my arms before I fall asleep, someone to talk to when I’m feeling lonely. Dolls are much easier to date. They’re always on their perfect behavior. They don’t put up any resistance when you try to control them, etc.
Which reminds me… I can’t wait until the movie Lars and the Real Girl comes out on DVD. I really think I’ll be able to relate to this film.
I’m not going to care about writing perfect sentences, perfect paragraphs, or perfect grammar. I neither have the time nor the energy for this. To hell with proper writing!
Perfection doesn’t exist. Perfection doesn’t exist. Perfection doesn’t exist. It’s all in my mind, a fabrication of my delusional imagination.
I’m going to make an effort to blog more often. Even if it means it’s going to be in an unstructured fashion. Strings of thoughts put down on paper are better than strings of thoughts swirling about and getting tangled in my mind, keeping me up more than half the night.
