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I hate my job today. Hate it. I’m one of those disgruntled employees who just grump around and sprinkle negative residual all over everyone around them. Like Pixie dust, except bad. I haven’t been this employee for a while, but I think, if I’m completely honest with myself, I was more attached to the idea of Clemson than I thought. I tried not to get my hopes up, but it felt so RIGHT. And I let myself go down that path. And now I feel trapped. Trapped by this cube. By my job responsibilities. By my bipolar, closet-smoking boss. By the drive back and forth. By the steady stream of emails coming into my inbox. And more than anything, by the fact that I don’t see an end. When I look ahead, it’s just a long, exhausting horizon stretching out in front of me, and I want to scream and run away.

I don’t like being this person. I wonder if I’m having a negative impact on my coworkers, because there’s seems to be a funk going around… Julie just completely chewed some guy’s ears off. Drew is having anxiety attacks at night. Tim is contemplating his escape. And Sarah (the chosen) 1 is just a ray of sunshine, feeling all fulfilled and favored, chirping about and sharing little tidbits from the secret email correspondences that Ron is sending her from Japan.

Ron hasn’t spoken to me in weeks. There have been the occasional comments here and there, but overall, there’s been a strain since a meeting we had on March 21st when it all blew up and went to hell, and he’s been nursing a grudge since. And the shunning continues… all of my coworkers have been selected to attend a supplier event in Iowa in a few weeks – that is, everyone except for Drew and me. It’s not that I want to go to Iowa – I don’t particularly care for that state – but it’s the principle. My employer is displeased with me, and he takes every opportunity to put Drew and me in “our places.” I’m sick of it. I’m sick of pandering to his mood swings. I’m sick of tiptoeing around, and trying to stay under the radar just to avoid getting smacked down. It’s an oppressive environment, and although I’ve gotten really good at not caring, sometimes it hits me and I realize that I really don’t want to here this time next year. Or even in 9 or 6 months. Or 2 weeks. I’m not sure which is more oppressive… the environment itself or ME in the environment. Based on everyone else’s ability to act normal, I’m thinking the latter is more likely.

I just added a column to our budget and deleted my income. We would have $1000 deficit, which actually isn’t that bad – after surviving a $1500 deficit for 3 months relatively unscathed, $1000 seems pretty doable. I could quit and take a week-long break, and then start beating the bushes for another job. Maybe another purchasing job – there’s one at Tri-County Tech right now. Or maybe something completely different for a while – an office manager, or any sort of clerical job, or a front desk receptionist in a dr’s office. It’d be a pay cut, but who cares? With Bobby’s current salary, I only need to make $17k for us to have a zero-based budget.

I’m going to talk to him about it this weekend. I know it’s not going to make him happy, but I’ve never done something like this before… why not? Why not just pull the plug, take the leap, be my own rule-maker and implementer for once in my life? Even when I was working that little piddly-ass job at Skatell’s for Mike Ealy the King Jerkface of the World, I still finished out my obligation to him to the extent of working on my birthday. I’ve always done job-related things out of obligation and responsibility and I’m sick of it. Quitting immediately after Mama died would have been a mistake – I see that now. It would have been too much, too fast, and I would have fallen so deep into that dark hole that I don’t know if I would have been able to get out. Getting out of bed for work was the only reason I got out of bed. But now, things are a little better. The house, the dogs, the Maggie… there are reasons that I’m going to just keep trucking. But there’s no reason I have to keep trucking through a sea of hydraulic valves.

Ok, just for fun, I’m going to draft my letter of resignation.

Dear Ron,
Please accept this letter as my written resignation. After much thought and consideration, I have decided to pursue other opportunities… not sure exactly what those opportunities are, but now’s as good a time as any to find out. I have personally and professionally enjoyed being a member of your team (most of the time), and I greatly appreciate you giving me this opportunity. Also, thank you very much for your understanding and support during the months preceding and following the death of my mother – an impossibly difficult time was made easier by your kindness and that of my teammates here.
Sincerely,
Sarah (aka Tew)

Hmmm. I like it.

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