Lost Caterwauling

Two years ago today, I had my exit interview from the last employer, known not-so-affectionately as Club Medicated. I had pulled the plug on this blog and set up camp elsewhere for the time being, and I’m sharing that day’s entry below the fold.

It really hurts to recall the frustration and pain — it always rains over me like a bad rash — but it helps sometimes, too. I hated that place so much, and I never, ever wanted to look back and miss it. There was a nasty, hateful, horrible person who was exiled right before I left, and I never met a person who could bitch so much. She made me look like a well-adjusted ball of sunshine. Yet, after she was gone, she sent in poems that were published in the employee newsletter on how much of a glorious opportunity it was to work there and how she misses it so. *gag* Thank GOD that I was able to rise above all of it at that island of misfit toys.

My successor was nice enough and talented enough, but lacked my passion. So they paid him more and insisted he work less than I did. I think that’s a pretty decent epitaph to the rejected creativity and dedication I had when I was there.

Anyway, here’s something from the old files. It reminds me of the old Irish saying that “May the best of your yesterdays be the worst of your tomorrows.” Or, in this case, may the people who caused you so much pain be left to rot while you go on to shine where you’re appreciated.

Had my exit interview today. It was made clear to me that I am just being written off as an unhappy employee.

This pisses me off.

I finally voiced the fact that everyone’s been tiptoeing around — that my blog almost got me fired and would have gotten me fired had I not taken the initiative and quit outright. And boy, do I get the image that they hate me more than I’d thought. Not that I care. Really. It just makes me pity them that they completely missed the messages I expressed in no uncertain terms. And if they’re waiting for an apology, well, then they can keep waiting. I will never apologize for the thoughts and ideas and dreams that I had. Sure, I insulted quite a few people along the way. But they will get over it. I’m already over it. The longer I am there, the more I get over it.

I tried to explain to HR that she at least has a husband to go home to and share funny/crazy stories with. I don’t. I have two cats and the blogosphere. And I don’t see why it is being held against me that I’ve chosen to share my personal triumphs and struggles with 300,000 strangers when I never used real names or places. I was shocked at not only the support for my tales, but also the demand for it. The blog was mine, of course, but I was almost cheered on by the response to certain types of entries. I’m not the only person who has struggles with employment, especially for people like me who don’t have a family life or significant other who will kiss our boo-boos and let us just get over what has happened to us during the course of a day.

She thinks I’m nuts and said it’s not like she tells her husband everything about work. She pointedly said that she wants to get rid of everyone who hates working there. And she’s glad when someone who hates working there leaves. I made it CRYSTAL clear that hating working there and hating one’s job are two mutually exclusive entities, and I loved my job and accepted the other stuff that displeased me for the love of what I did come there every day to do.

In the exit interview, I had to give a reason for leaving (read: choosing from a list). None applied — I said, “Where’s the option for being run out of town on a rail?” She was not amused. Nor was I that I had to choose that I am leaving “for personal reasons.” That’s stupid. Makes me sound like I’m checking into a sanitarium — that I hated the job so much that I simply couldn’t take it anymore. I was hot under the collar about that one.

I had to give feedback on my supervisor. I said, “Didn’t you read the blog? I’m sure you can lift from that!” Sorry to say, but I fried the boss. I didn’t want to (read: I had no desire to help the company). But I am only one person with an opinion (although dozens of people share the opinion!).

I did say that, look, I didn’t want to be viewed as the problem child. I really worked hard and really was proud of everthing I did for that company. And that it fried my shorts that I was only going to be remembered as the brat with the blog — the kid who wrote the tell-all bestseller about her family’s secrets. She did surprise me and said she would always remember me as the one who stepped into the ruins and elevated the position and the product above anything else she had seen in that department.

I’ve decided I need to detox myself from that job. Which is why I keep ranting about it — I am popping open the vein and squeezing out the stale blood. A wants me to do freelance for them, and I decided I would rather DIE than give them another minute of my time.

I’m on a conference call about the power of positive thought (callers are prattling on about their personal experiences now — I got the education part done first). I learned that we can battle the subconscious with consciously envisioning yourself as successful. Not saying “I will be” or “I hope to be” but, rather, seeing yourself where you want to be. And we should tie in colors, scents, emotions, etc. to strengthen the image. And once we have the picture inside, then we will want to match the picture on the outside by catapulting us into actually GETTING to that point.

So, the lesson I learn is to not dwell on the bank account or the empty days ahead. I need to see all of this as my stepping stone to the person I already am.

Girl power!!! 😉

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