Adventures in awkward

November 21st, 2017, 6:42 AM by Goddess

As if it weren’t bad enough that we are selling assets to my old company and I am working with people I left behind anywhere from 7 to 10 years ago …

Now I get to dazzle other people who are lucky enough to have jobs. Reminds me of when I was interviewing begging for this job. Looking around and trying super-hard to not recognize that I could outshine any of them, if only anyone would give me a chance.

I got some good news yesterday. The owner personally asked me to stay on an extra month. So I am very happy and relieved to have two more paychecks than I planned.

(I mean, I planned on being employed for as long as I wanted to be. So this is just meeting my expectations for 2017. But still. Consider that expectation bar on the ground, or perhaps in a ditch, for next year.)

The owner also asked me to make a Sophie’s Choice and pick just one helper. The answer was easy. But I feel sad anyway.

And not only did my newest boss (the guy who promoted me) get walked out of the building yesterday, but I ran into my immediately previous boss at a cocktail reception.

Jesus Christ. The guy who unfriended me when they put him on the curb. In the flesh.

I spent the evening avoiding him. But he came up to me at the end and we made peace.

Seeing him killed me. The man’s been out of a job four months and counting. FOUR MONTHS. From the same role I am wrapping up. Am I in for another 11-month stretch without a job like the last time?

To be fair, he wasn’t a fit for the role and he knew it. I love to manage. I love the day-to-day. I hate writing because this field has killed my love of it, where he still holds on to that love.

We could have been a good team if we had been in each other’s roles.

Seeing him jobless and hearing that another colleague I liked is also still on the unemployment line killed me

And none of this really felt real till 30 of us were standing around the (mercifully) open bar at a cocktail reception. Some of us clamored for the attention of the basically three people who didn’t have an opening per se but who were humoring someone important and meeting with us orphans. Most of our employees huddled together, watching the rest of us with wide eyes.

I told the HR director at the hosting company (an old friend of mine, although not sure how much that helps me) it was like the Puppy Bowl. I walk well on a leash and I love car rides and going to the park. Pick me, yes?

The good news is, I knew the hosts and it was good to catch up. (And I hope they took my dinner suggestion — they would love me.) I tried to introduce my folks and say a nice thing or two. As if my reference could make a difference.

I couldn’t sleep after that. I mean, the wine (very good pinot noir. Go, Marriott) knocked me out for two hours. But Kadie had me up at 3 a.m. yesterday. so I consider that as appending Sunday night’s fitful slumber.

I dreamed that Mom was healthy and happy and out of pain. We were out doing something fun in the sun and I said, momma, you’re keeping up with me! She said yes, honey, isn’t it wonderful?

I went to pay for something in the dream and realized holy shit, I do not have a job and zero prospects for one.

That’ll get ya out of bed at 1:12 a.m. Just sayin’.

My agreement to stay is also a devil’s deal. I can’t leave if I get a good offer. Or a bad offer. Or any offer, really.

What I’m hoping is that the universe will work the way it always does, and I’ll get 10 offers because I can’t walk out when I’m ready.

The owner says he knows I’m going to get multiple offers. Don’t take the first offer, Goddess, he told me yesterday. Make them compete for you.

I just hope the money comes. Offers have always been fairly easy to come by. Offers that keep you above the poverty level, not so much.

And looking around at people who gave 10, 20, even almost 30 years — thinking this was where they’d gain seniority and maybe retire from — just makes me sad that there are so many of us with the same wish.

Sadder still that this probably isn’t the last layoff we’ll ever endure, if we can even get through this one in the first place.



Well that’s one way to look at it

November 19th, 2017, 9:14 AM by Goddess

I won’t lie — I never felt “safe.” Not even working 75 hours a week, juggling more projects than my five counterparts on the other side of the company who collectively did ONE of my jobs.

It was a shitty review (how do I get 2s out of 5s for dependability and output. HOW?) and the death of a friend (no doubt from overwork) that helped me scale back to 60 hours.

Still, I fretted.

Then the person who would have fired me left, and I got promoted. Go figure. Someone who judged me on reputation alone (obviously by everyone else’s view) would be the one to elevate me. Best decision they ever made, probably.

I still never felt safe, though.

And now that living in my car is all I want for Christmas, because that implies the car is still running, there’s a certain level of relief. They can’t hurt me any more than they already have.

I mean, yes, now the worries are much bigger. But it’s not like staying two extra hours these days will save the whole operation. Too late to make a difference. If it ever did.

And call me crazy, but I’ll find relief anywhere I can get it.



My glass is full … of shit

November 15th, 2017, 6:29 PM by Goddess

That time when you lost your job, your apartment, your mind AND your car.

And when your car died in the middle of 95 and you could literally SEE YOUR OFFICE as the cars whipped around your dead fucking fuel pump ass.

And when you called AAA and said yes this is an emergency and OMG I AM NOT IN A SAFE LOCATION and they still had you wait an hour.

And when you called Florida Highway Patrol to give your coordinates and say please please please send a squad car to hang out with me OMG GONNA DIE HOLY SHIT YOU KNOW HOW FLORIDIANS DRIVE and they say call us when there’s a real accident.

And when you CRAWL OUT OF YOUR SUNROOF and jump onto the truck bed so you don’t get kilt on the fucking highway.

And when YOU FEEL YOUR PERIOD START as you grab your coffee and laptop out of your passenger seat as you kneel on the not-so-strong hood of your car.

Meanwhile you’ve been coughing up a lung for a week and a half. And you busted both your big toes wearing new shoes to Disney two weeks ago and the nails look like janky eggplants.

And when you have to pay over a hundred bucks to get towed to your mechanic BY YOUR HOUSE 30 MILES SOUTH omg why did I leave the house whyyyyyy.

And when your mechanic’s discount still sets you back a grand.

AND YOU STILL DON’T HAVE A JOB OR A PLACE TO LIVE so you pay it because you’re about to be living in that fucking vehicle.

So you’ll have to forgive me that I’m a little focused on the negative right now when I know I should be grateful that I lived … that no one hurt poor Stewie … that I had a terrific AAA driver … that I have an awesome mechanic … and that I didn’t have to look at those sad sack motherfuckers inside that building, although I did end up fighting with the one idiot all goddamned day long because he has never been able to follow instructions and, with two weeks to go, doesn’t apparently plan to.

I tell everyone we can either tell a tale of fear or triumph. This is all setting up to be one of those stories that no one will believe I could (eventually) overcome.

Right now, unfortunately, the only one who is unsure I will overcome all this bullshit is me.



I know better than to ask ‘what’s next’

November 9th, 2017, 2:56 PM by Goddess

Homeless, jobless, sick and Trump’s still president.

What a great fucking day.



‘What are you supposed to do, anyway?’

November 8th, 2017, 3:30 PM by Goddess

Had a salad at the mall with one of my boys, as is our Wednesday tradition.

We figure it’s a good supervisory session. We sure talk about the thing our jobs revolve around an awful lot. And it’s nice to do so as we power-walk and wind up in Starbucks for our afternoon java.

Today he asked what my title is. I mean, he knows it’s “his boss.” “But what does that mean to them?” he wanted to know.

He’s not trying to be anything other than curious. Because my boss and my boss’ boss called a meeting with him this afternoon. Why am I not a part of it?

If it were anywhere else, I’d wonder and worry and lobby to be in with the in crowd. But here, if I’m not babysitting everything else, someone would start playing with matches and burn the place down.

When I got the title, it was basically, “Just keep doing everything you’ve been doing for the past six years.” You know, under a lesser title.

I mean it about the babysitting though. I told him a string of six stories from today alone — from having to tell someone that you cannot spell it “thrown” in print when it’s what a king sits on, and that you should know how many newsletters Guy XYZ writes, and that if I ask you to do something and you ignore me without giving me a reason why you don’t think it’s a good idea, you don’t get to be mad when I assume you just don’t read your emails in full — and he was like wow.

As in, wow — all those ideas in your head and brainpower and knowledge and HISTORY … sitting idle.

Yeah I’m not going to take over the world at this rate. But at least the poop and throw-up I clean up is mostly metaphorical. And it beats doing it all by myself. And when the time comes that that changes, I am pretty sure I have the power to make that happen.