Has it been about a year? I said we could talk about it in a year. I figured it would take me that long to process it. It’s been about 100 days. I’m okay now. I hardly ever have the nightmares anymore.
Okay, so my line of work isn’t important to this blog. I research, write, and organize. I worked in this field twenty years ago and it’s what I decided to go back to two years ago.
I have had many, many different kinds of jobs — hardware, paper, food service, office, education, sales, finance, pizza delivery girl. My happiness is always, always determined by the people.
There are those who will say work isn’t about being happy and to them I say, Fuck Right Off. If I’m going to GET UP IN THE MORNING AND PUT ON A BRA AND PANTS AND LEAVE MY PETS, I’M GOING TO NEED A LEVEL OF SATISFACTION BEYOND FINANCIAL GAIN.
Do you KNOW how cute and sweet and cuddly my pets are?!?
I like myself more than I like nice things. I’m not saying work should be fun, I’m saying work should be rewarding.
So I took a job in a small office. Normally, my jobs have more than one of me, but this place was small enough that it was just me. I prefer the smaller offices. I like the clarity of expectations that come from knowing how a particular person likes things done and being ahead of those expectations. This is me, as a person. Being of service, being the right-hand woman, I enjoy that. I enjoy collaboration and teamwork for the greater good — it’s crucial, but I thrive in solitary detail. Wind beneath wings, alright?
The job was in a fancy office, in a fancy building, where I would wear fancier clothes and I would therefore receive a fancier rate: IF THE FUCKIN CHECK DIDN’T BOUNCE, fancy broke bad check writin motherfuckers GODDAMN: I wanted the job. I liked the illusions I was sold. I was slobbering about paid bank holidays and two weeks off at the end of the year.
I worked there for 5.5 days. Mid-afternoon day six, I was fired.
Well for fuck’s sake. I’d never been fired before. It.is.not.pleasant.
I had one nice thing to say about getting fired: I HATED THAT COMMUTE.
I take the job thing like anything else. With checklists. Compromise on this, unwilling to compromise on that. For instance, due to the busfuckedupedness I’ve experienced, I need to drive my kids to school. Period.
Further, I don’t want to get on the interstate in rush hour.
I don’t wanna work all the bank holidays, even if it means unpaid. These things matter to me. They’re not petty to me, they’re important to me, because my entire family is home every bank holiday and my mother goes to bed when I eat dinner and she won’t talk to me while I drive home, even ‘hands-free’.
Much like ‘getting over a man is best done by getting under a new one’ I immediately pursued a new job. I debated whether I should totally change gears. Work in a bakery or for a vet or a florist, I dunno. Somethin different. I can do a lot of things. I am lovable and capable. Goddamn.
Mentor told me I should come work with her at her office. When I left the office where Mentor and I used to work together, I’d exhausted all possibilities of growth there. I wanted more. I honestly stayed on a month longer because of her. She is an amazing person… Y’all, she’s wicked smart and a natural leader; she has this way of recognizing and developing ability in me. If you’ve had this, this sorta awe and respect for a person and they’re willing to invest their time and effort into you, then you get it. That’s why even when I left, she remained Mentor.
Sadly, because of Mentor’s abode, I assumed she also worked ‘up there’ and y’all, I didn’t wanna. Images of roundabouts filled my head. She asked if I was interested, and I was like, “Kinda, but isn’t it farrr?”
She said she didn’t think so.
(She’s not from here. She dunno the city.)
Then she told me the cross streets and I almost peed my pants with excitement. I squeed. Location: Ideal
So Mentor pitched me to her new people saying, “We need this woman.”
I wasn’t sure they needed me. They weren’t actively seeking any of me.
Mentor sent me a photo of her office, files piling up, and I laughed and text back, “Mentor, Mentor, Mentor, Tsk.”
She needed me, Haha!
That’s how she
became my mentor got me, originally.
I am naturally gifted with organization and worse, I truly enjoy it.
Sometimes your neurosis is a pleasure, what can I say?
Fresh from my bad break-up, I needed to score. I had some really terrible interviews during this time of hot job pursuit.
I grew jaded, I did.
Mentor pitched me to her bosses and I met with them. Upon leaving my three-hour meeting with the people, I could not suppress my hope in the least. I wanted it so badly, only joy or devastation could come from it.
Oh it was misery for two days, the waiting, UGH.
It happened. They offered. They offered me a position, warmly, with enthusiasm. They offered me more pay than fancy office, more pay than I asked for, not working overtime, not working past dark come winter.
The first few weeks, I worked in Mentor’s office and I walked around hummin “Reunited” a la Peaches n’ Herb.
Sometimes, the stars all align and magical shit happens and dreams really do come true.
Jiminey Cricket, I still cannot believe it.
Y’ever hear that thing about getting what you want when you make it clear to the Universe what it is exactly? This is my Maybe So:
1. Mentor is there. This means I learn constantly. Every day. I do what she tells me and when I need direction, she provides it. Or she throws me in and I swim, and when I start to drown, she laughs and redirects.
2. The verbal ability in my office. Jeez. The magnitude of word choice, the writing, the cadence, the articulation, the puns… Such mastery of language is impressive.
unworldly particular group of people seems to enjoy things about me that tend to give me trouble with most people: asking ‘too many’ questions, displaying frequent candor, seeing everything with meticulous scrutiny. I was recently praised for not taking shit. !!!
4. We don’t seem to people it up over there. Guests must be buzzed in, voicemail is rare, work is frequently independent and uninterrupted.
5. It’s close. It’s the closest commute I’ve had since I walked to work as a teen. It’s close to home and schools and groceries and Target and Starbucks and the bank that doesn’t charge me a fee.
6. I have my own office. It has a door. It has windows. It has a nice art. It is completely devoid of fluorescent lighting. If we staff up, I may end up back in Mentor’s office, but there still won’t be fluorescent lighting.
7. There is no office music. Y’all, I love music. Truly. However, when I need to write, or God forbid, math, I do it better in the quiet.
8. Jeans are not verboten. I have not seen any suits. Jackets, no suits.
9. Whatever I wanna eat or drink, I ask the office manager for it, and it appears directly. Complimentary lunch is fairly regular.
10. Free parking. Shaded parking. Conveniently located at the office, no ramps, no half-mile walk out to Scooby-Doo 6. You know what’s out there? Birds, squirrels, cats, ants.
11. I heard one of my bosses bragging about us on the phone and he said, “They’re so great, I don’t even care if they hear me!”
12. If I need to leave early or arrive late due to other obligations, I simply note my absence and make up my time much as possible.
13. The digital files are arranged the way everyone should arrange their files. I had no idea how important this was until I encountered the opposite. It’s really fucking important to me.
14. I drive west in the morning and east in the evening and the sun is never in my eyes.
15. PAID. BANK. HOLIDAYS.
I bought a real coffee cup for work.
When I answer the phone, the smile people hear is authentic.
I freakin love my job!
Still, I love the weekend more!
Happy, Happy Friday Everyone!