Well that’s one way to look at it

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.

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