Take this job and shove it

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Some people are good at painting landscapes or growing orchids or restoring old cars. My hobby is finding abusive people and forming relationships with them. Since I’ve already got a ton of experience with abusive romantic relationships, I thought it might be nice to add some variety, so I decided to seek out abuse in the workplace.

I have a natural talent for that, too, it seems. I’ve had unpleasant bosses before, but this was the first time I’ve ever had a boss who didn’t pay me for the work I did. That’s abuse on a whole new level. He even tried to get me to do free work on my days off. On top of that he was condescending, churlish, and petty.

By the by, if anyone reading this is appalled that I’m joking about abusive relationships, then this is probably not the website for you. Gallows humor is the norm around here. It’s how I cope.

I’m not going to offer details about the job I just left. All you need to know is that it lasted a week. I quit today, and while it ought to have been a liberating process, it was extremely unpleasant. Even my resignation letter was fair game for nasty little criticisms.

I’ve been dwelling on it all weekend. Strike that; I have not been dwelling on anything. “Dwell” is such a passive verb. I have been actively obsessing over this stupid job, to the point where I yelled “QUIT FUCKING THINKING ABOUT IT ALREADY, OKAY?”, which startled the cats but otherwise had no obvious effect. My stomach is still filled with butterflies and I can feel the lingering fight-or-flight chemicals chewing on my nerves.

In the movies, this is the point where the heroine goes out and restores her spirits with some mindless casual sex, only it never works like that in real life and anyway I don’t know the right people for that sort of thing. Alternately, we could pan in on the heroine venting her frustrations by getting in some practice at the shooting range or by demolishing a punching bag, but the problem with those scenarios is that I don’t own a gun or a punching bag. Which is a shame, now that I reflect on it.

I think tomorrow I’ll find a mountain and hike it. That should take care of some of my frazzled feeling. I might need a different mountain than my normal one, though. My normal mountain is wonderful, and it’s very close by, but its trail has too much horizontal and not enough vertical.

Ah well. Back to being unemployed. Sympathy now being accepted, though if it’s all the same to you I’d rather have the weapons and the punching bags.


One response »

  1. eleemosynary archivist

    Greetings & Salutations O Mighty, Amusing & Intelligent "Dweller" in the Carolina Countryside!Very pleased to hear that the Black Dog of doom & Disaster has moved on leaving you and the Felines in a more peaceful frame of reference.Must have been like that locally after a Band of Marauders passed through during the War of Northern Aggression:)May the late but not lamented Churlish nitwit who added to your woes be hanged upon his own Petard!Don't know 'bout fiscal aspects of the Yoga Training, might be difficult to get a concomitant return on cash investment, but the Teaching Certification & distance learning strategy sounds splendidly refreshing. Go fer it, Jess!!Shangrila may exist after all though.. I can see you trekking up toward the Potala to take on a job as tutor to one of the Dali Lama's cousins. A gentlemanly Monk recently released from his self abnegating vows and told to learn Carolina ways from a lovely Librarianess who needs material for a PhD thesis.. ps: Keep on truckin'! out-4-nowTGB-EA


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