Partying like it’s about 2007
I got to thinking about my departure from Ye Olde Workplace Establishment this morning. It was another “you’re not special” situation. Like, the market crashed and my services were the best performers (and sellers) and we kept adding new services and experts and my workload basically became a bigger bubble than real estate until finally … *poof* … I fizzled out.
Even though I was plugging the holes in the ship with all my phalanges and even my nose and tongue, the fact is that when bonus time rolled around, there was nothing for Goddess. Because, like with the vacation time I lost there, too, there are no exceptions for the exceptional. Because then the exceptionless would want a piece of the action, too.
So, I lost out. And so did they.
I see they went from 30 services back in the day to about as many now as my trusty assistant editor and I fielded just between the two of us. God, we rocked. (And God, I miss her!)
I don’t feel like getting mad anymore. I hated leaving there but the point it ended up proving is not to work your (middle-management) minions to absolute death. And not to work your mid- (to now upper-ish) management self to death going forward either.
I guess we do it for the love of learning, creating, achieving … and affording shit on the weekends to cope.
Sometimes all I want is for everything to change. And then I realize I find a bizarre amount of comfort in everything being so screwed up that I wouldn’t know how to function if it weren’t.