First Resignation

There's only one word to describe how I'm feeling today:

 Last night, I was pretty snit-tastic. Addie and I had a talk about money (like, as soon as I walked in the door, way to go) and where we’ll be in a few months, which of course, led to the “goddamnit I don’t like my job” talk (only on my part, Addie loves his job), which led to me pissing and moaning about what I could do because I need a lot of money, like right now and quitting was out of the question even though the job was giving me anxiety attacks. But finally I broke down and decided that I couldn’t put up with it anymore and quitting was the only feasible option. 

I woke up to an encouraging note from Addie, and after I got to work, I told my supervisor, and then went and had a surprisingly pleasant discussion with my boss. And I did it! I put in my notice. 

I told him it just wasn’t working out for a wide number of reasons. Primarily because working all day at a computer left me drained of any motivation to write. And, working an office job again so soon after quitting an office job turned out to be a bit of a mind fuck. I was only there over a month, but I could already feel myself growing into a pissy rut, of every day collapsing on the couch after complaining about the day I had—a place I worked hard to get out of and didn’t want to fall into again.  

But really, mostly I quit because I didn’t like being told I was “slap fucking” my boss around. I, uh, didn’t tell him that part.

It felt good to quit. I walked out of his office and it was like the weight of a thousand neurotic Audreys was dug out of my lower back. It basically made up for every shitty job I didn’t quit in college because I felt like I couldn’t. Like I finally stood up for myself, professionally, and said I wasn’t going to stand for a job that was any less than awesome. Turns out free lunches and $20 on my birthday wasn’t awesome enough to make up for how I left feeling like a super small idiot every day.  

So I walked out of the office today, feeling like a Self Important Bitch, In Control of My Life, when I saw that my back tire was Completely Flat.

Wah. Wah. Waaaaah.

But Shelby’s boyfriend/my other housemate said he might be able to dig out the teeny tiny nail that did it in and plug it up. And if not, he’s going to find me a cheap replacement tire.

It’s been an ebb and flow kinda day.

 

I keep thinking of shitty jobs my parents couldn’t quit because they had 4 children to support. And I’m really grateful that they were so selfless for us.

But at the same time, I’m putting “Able to Quit Job and Move On Without A Reliable End Game In Sight” all the way at the top of the “Reasons I’m Grateful I Have No Desires to Procreate” list.  

Now it's time for Black Swan for like, the 500th time, writing, and some dinner.

And maybe basking in new cable.

(definitely)