Was the first day of my vacation. I woke up this morning in the 7 o'clock hour and smiled, thinking of all the people at the job I left last week, working working away already. I was thrilled to be in bed instead.
I got up and did laundry today. And had brunch with Kev. Then I grocery shopped, cleaned up my apartment and did the dishes and dressed the bed and vacuumed, and Daniel can home from San Fran and I chatted with him. I have some more things I want to accomplish tomorrow. And some things I want to think about.
Have you ever seen the pick up artist on VH1?
Watch it.
Monday, September 24, 2007
Friday, September 21, 2007
Oh definitely.
The job is over.
I'm a very happy quitter.
A huge weight has already been lifted.
I got home from work around 2 today. And now I'm about to walk out the door of my apartment to go to my old acting school to teach some students about sketch comedy. Funny, that.
>sighs, grins, sleeps<
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
one more to summer
I cannot get out of here soon enough. I mean, I seriously cannot get out of here soon enough.
You know how sometimes you'll move through life tolerating something? Like, something you think you have to stand because you simply have to and it's not gonna end any time soon so rather than let yourself feel how you really feel about whatever it is, you just steel yourself to the fact that you have to learn to tolerate it because that's ultimately easier and healthier (or so you've decided) for your psyche than walking around bemoaning your never-ending troubles all day long. People do it all the time - with relationships they should have gotten out of years ago but didn't, with friendships they know deep down are no longer functional, with their lifestyle choices, like drugs or weight issues or health issues, and naturally, with jobs they know they should escape - people tolerate less than. People create normalcy around something that doesn't deserved to be normalized in their lives. People let themselves be okay with stuff that isn't okay. Because it's what people do.
But then...you know how sometimes you'll suddenly realize you've been tolerating something that you just don't have to fucking tolerate anymore? Something will click inside you or something will happen to shift life's circumstances around. And suddenly the whole world opens up like a giant oyster and reminds you that you don't have to do, be, live, think, eat, or feel a goddammed thing you don't want to do, be, live, think, eat, or feel.
And when that click or shift finally happens, along comes with it the realization that whatever thing you've been tolerating, whatever thing you've been subgigating yourself for, is actually a lot less worth tolerating than you thought. And your true feelings come rushing forward like a giant wave of salty ocean water. And you remember who you are without this albatross around your neck. And you wonder why the fuck you ever thought it'd be a good idea to stick it out in the first place.
I guess sometimes you have to stick shit out.
And sometimes you're done sticking it out and you have to get outta your own way and let that giant salty ocean water wave knock you down and soak your clothes and tangle your hair and fill your mouth and burn the inside of your nose, so that when the wave receeds back into the sea, you're left standing there, small, insignificant, blinking the sun out of your eyes, grinning, really glad to that you caught the bus to the beach.
You know how sometimes you'll move through life tolerating something? Like, something you think you have to stand because you simply have to and it's not gonna end any time soon so rather than let yourself feel how you really feel about whatever it is, you just steel yourself to the fact that you have to learn to tolerate it because that's ultimately easier and healthier (or so you've decided) for your psyche than walking around bemoaning your never-ending troubles all day long. People do it all the time - with relationships they should have gotten out of years ago but didn't, with friendships they know deep down are no longer functional, with their lifestyle choices, like drugs or weight issues or health issues, and naturally, with jobs they know they should escape - people tolerate less than. People create normalcy around something that doesn't deserved to be normalized in their lives. People let themselves be okay with stuff that isn't okay. Because it's what people do.
But then...you know how sometimes you'll suddenly realize you've been tolerating something that you just don't have to fucking tolerate anymore? Something will click inside you or something will happen to shift life's circumstances around. And suddenly the whole world opens up like a giant oyster and reminds you that you don't have to do, be, live, think, eat, or feel a goddammed thing you don't want to do, be, live, think, eat, or feel.
And when that click or shift finally happens, along comes with it the realization that whatever thing you've been tolerating, whatever thing you've been subgigating yourself for, is actually a lot less worth tolerating than you thought. And your true feelings come rushing forward like a giant wave of salty ocean water. And you remember who you are without this albatross around your neck. And you wonder why the fuck you ever thought it'd be a good idea to stick it out in the first place.
I guess sometimes you have to stick shit out.
And sometimes you're done sticking it out and you have to get outta your own way and let that giant salty ocean water wave knock you down and soak your clothes and tangle your hair and fill your mouth and burn the inside of your nose, so that when the wave receeds back into the sea, you're left standing there, small, insignificant, blinking the sun out of your eyes, grinning, really glad to that you caught the bus to the beach.
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Darling, it's been too long.
Well. I'm sleepy. So there's that. I should probably start by telling you that.
But I'll tell you the best news. I quit my awful job.
Yesssssssssssssssssssssssssss I did.
I gave my notice on Tuesday. They asked me to "give it another week" before I made a final decision. I said I would, but I mostly knew that my decision wouldn't be changing. I'll tell them on Monday that Friday is still my last day. (I would've told them earlier, but they've all been out since Wednesday afternoon for the Jewish holiday.)
The events leading up to my quitting will remain some of the most memorable in my professional life's history. Basically:
The crazy woman flipped OUT at me, completely unprovoked, when she couldn't successfully connect our boss, who was in Boston at the time, to a conference call. While she was throwing her temper tantrum (she threw shit, far and hard, across the room), stomping around, slamming doors, I figured out the conference call so that nobody got their butts ripped off by the boss man. This infuriated her. She told me I always pretend like I don't know how to do something and then wait til the last minute to save the day so that I can come out looking like the hero. Among other hilariousawful shit. So, based on her fury over this scenario, she then proceeded to enact what I like to call the Get Someone Fired Show for the next 3 days. I'm not kidding. I'm not exaggerating. You wish I was. I wish I was. I'm not.
The Get Someone Fired Show is a show I've witnessed several times before, but I've never been the 'someone.' Boy oh boy was I the someone this time. I won't regale you with all the unpleasant details – it was uuugly. But I will tell you my favorite favorite part:
After she spent two solid days performing the Show, slamming the doors to various conference rooms to make phone calls to or have meetings with various coworkers to tell them how awful I am (and I know because I CAN HEAR YOU EVEN IF THE DOOR IS CLOSED EVEN IF I'M NOT TRYING), whispering to anyone and everyone while gesturing in my direction, she finally got our boss on the phone, who was still in Boston, to tell him to fire me. Now, our boss likes me. And I should probably add that I'm a stellar employee at this place. I am here exactly on time every day, I work hard, I am always polite and pleasant and helpful. So she couldn't convince him that I had done anything wrong, let alone anything job-termination-worthy (probably because he's not a complete idiot). And it was frustrating her more and more by the second, enraging her really. She was yelling and screaming shit about how I "never do any work" (which I hear her yell while I'm sitting at my desk covered in work) and a whole ridiculous host of other accusations that couldn't be further based in the opposite-of-reality. But then the kicker, the real kicker. This sixty something mentally unwell mean horrible lady actually said to the multi-million dollar, no-nonsense President who doesn't give a fuck about anything but making money for his huge construction company, "…and if you think this is about me being jealous of her because she's young, it's NOT! I could get fifty fucking men faster than she could!"
As if the Universe weren't already marvelous enough, it sent me a great signal later that week in the form of a phone call from an old job that I loved and only left because I'd been there a year and I needed more money. They need me to come back indefinitely until I want to move on to some place else. And they will pay me the same thing I'm making now. And I don't have to be at work until 10am every day.
Sold.
But I'll tell you the best news. I quit my awful job.
Yesssssssssssssssssssssssssss I did.
I gave my notice on Tuesday. They asked me to "give it another week" before I made a final decision. I said I would, but I mostly knew that my decision wouldn't be changing. I'll tell them on Monday that Friday is still my last day. (I would've told them earlier, but they've all been out since Wednesday afternoon for the Jewish holiday.)
The events leading up to my quitting will remain some of the most memorable in my professional life's history. Basically:
The crazy woman flipped OUT at me, completely unprovoked, when she couldn't successfully connect our boss, who was in Boston at the time, to a conference call. While she was throwing her temper tantrum (she threw shit, far and hard, across the room), stomping around, slamming doors, I figured out the conference call so that nobody got their butts ripped off by the boss man. This infuriated her. She told me I always pretend like I don't know how to do something and then wait til the last minute to save the day so that I can come out looking like the hero. Among other hilariousawful shit. So, based on her fury over this scenario, she then proceeded to enact what I like to call the Get Someone Fired Show for the next 3 days. I'm not kidding. I'm not exaggerating. You wish I was. I wish I was. I'm not.
The Get Someone Fired Show is a show I've witnessed several times before, but I've never been the 'someone.' Boy oh boy was I the someone this time. I won't regale you with all the unpleasant details – it was uuugly. But I will tell you my favorite favorite part:
After she spent two solid days performing the Show, slamming the doors to various conference rooms to make phone calls to or have meetings with various coworkers to tell them how awful I am (and I know because I CAN HEAR YOU EVEN IF THE DOOR IS CLOSED EVEN IF I'M NOT TRYING), whispering to anyone and everyone while gesturing in my direction, she finally got our boss on the phone, who was still in Boston, to tell him to fire me. Now, our boss likes me. And I should probably add that I'm a stellar employee at this place. I am here exactly on time every day, I work hard, I am always polite and pleasant and helpful. So she couldn't convince him that I had done anything wrong, let alone anything job-termination-worthy (probably because he's not a complete idiot). And it was frustrating her more and more by the second, enraging her really. She was yelling and screaming shit about how I "never do any work" (which I hear her yell while I'm sitting at my desk covered in work) and a whole ridiculous host of other accusations that couldn't be further based in the opposite-of-reality. But then the kicker, the real kicker. This sixty something mentally unwell mean horrible lady actually said to the multi-million dollar, no-nonsense President who doesn't give a fuck about anything but making money for his huge construction company, "…and if you think this is about me being jealous of her because she's young, it's NOT! I could get fifty fucking men faster than she could!"
As if the Universe weren't already marvelous enough, it sent me a great signal later that week in the form of a phone call from an old job that I loved and only left because I'd been there a year and I needed more money. They need me to come back indefinitely until I want to move on to some place else. And they will pay me the same thing I'm making now. And I don't have to be at work until 10am every day.
Sold.
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