I am weighing my personal value. It weighs less each day. Unlike my girth which seems to grow uglier and rounder by the day. I left my job. I walked away from my career which had fizzled down to a pitiful job as a desk jockey. Sure, I did the right thing. Sure, it was going to make my health better. Sure, it was going to sooth my wounded soul. Right. Sure. Really? So I spend a summer rattling around my house. I managed to paint one small cupboard and put new door pulls on it. What a marvelous, spectacular remodel project! I cleaned the bathrooms. I never did transplant the lilies. I never got around to moving the peonies from that too shady spot. I did not get around to starting that short story that is rattling around in my head. Oh wait, yes I did start it. Then I deleted it because it sounded incredibly pedantic. I put on my elastic waistband pants and got ready to be a substitute teacher. I compiled supplies to take with me on my sub jobs. I read materials about sub survival. I got my licenses up to date, set my preferences in the substitute software module. And when the job finally came to me, I turned it down. I screwed up my courage and did finally take a day's work and nearly threw up in the morning. As I drove to the school my hands were clammy. I was afraid to do this. But I went into the building after several serious moments thinking I'd just turn around and go home. I survived the day. I probably did OK. I don't know. I will only know if I blew it -- if the teacher requests that I never sub in her class again. Haven't heard that... hope that won't happen. I need structure and order. I need to know what I'm going to be doing each day. This waiting to hear my laptop go BING! to let me know there is a job I can take a look at accepting is crazy. I need to make a living. So I have put in applications at the university and more applications at the school system. But will I even get an interview? I have become a sorry sad sack. I am feeling pitiful. It is horrible to feel this way. It is stupid and self serving and useless. Useless I say. Useless. that's how I feel. I clean the litter box, do the dishes, put out the trash. Check emails, do some correspondence. Wind down some of my volunteer stuff. I made a short speech in front of a full auditorium - and I managed to get laughs in the places I intended. That was great. That felt great. I met my daughter's teachers and really enjoyed the evening going from class to class. Her media literacy class looks like a gas. I wish I could sit in on that one... Being in the school makes me happy. So, I have to find myself a niche - and figure out a way to get a paying gig in the school system. Subbing is going to send me over the edge. Somebody give me a classroom!! Or a clerical job... You have no idea how good I can be... hope no one reads this. it is pitiful. but it's no longer inside me and that's what counts. Better out than in.

I dodged the boulder. It went rolling past me. I gathered up my backbone, and thumped the papers on my boss's desk and resigned. Of course, that was over 2 months ago. Only in the last two weeks have I begun to experience freedom. What I can't quite escape is the feeling that I need to check in with (former) customers to see if "we" did their projects correctly. I can't imagine that those projects went at all well... but I can do nothing about it - and it is not my problem anymore. Still and all... I left them without saying anything. I just disappeared. Which was what I was told to do. Now, if I contact these people it could be construed as violating a non-compete clause. (mistype it as non-complete cause - starts to become poetry)

So the next step is... find that lost aspect of myself. Begin to enjoy my brain and find my creative soul again. I have spent too many years plodding along. I am dulled. I am witless. But I see glimmers of my former self. I am beginning to let me shine through again. I can immerse myself in "Lear," or Ginsberg's poetry. I can read. I can think.

This just might be a really good time!

Enough Already

On Wednesday I had conversations in my head all the way to the office. Who would I speak to, and what would I say to them? "sorry, boss, can't take any more. I quit." What actually happened was a blur. Something snapped and I pounded past HR's office. He asked me if I needed anything. Asked if I wanted to give him those reports or papers or whatever was in my hand. I swerved into his office and said "the only thing I'm going to give you is my resignation!!" and I burst into tears. That was professional.

I sat in that office, and put it all on the table. That was it. I am done. I resign. I am giving notice. I really had not planned to go this way. I wanted to be professional. Instead I was a blubbering fool. Note: if you are in HR, you should always have a box of kleenex in your office.

Has anyone figured out how to get out of the way when the boulder is coming straight at your head? Sure, you can duck - but it's a heat seaking device that will track you down no matter how hard you to try to hide. That is how I feel right now. The phrase that is the chant in my head is: it keeps coming and it keeps coming and coming and won't ever stop. There isn't time for anything. I don't have time to clean my house - everyone wants me to do something for them. And when I fall short, I appear incompetent or lazy or indifferent. My professional life has moved from being a decision maker working in an office to a bruised and exhausted grunt worker stuck in the very last cubicle in the office. The very last. walled off from everyone. Right next to the humming server room and the door the garage - which is, apparently, my new domain. No, there is no statement there. I don't believe the management has the intellect to understand what they've done to me. They didn't understand or right their ship when my husband walked off the job. They didn't make any changes when another employee did the very same thing.
Am I really incompetent? Am I really unable to get the work done? I have so many doubts. The straws are adding up. My back will soon break and I will bolt too. I was scolded for not doing my job quickly enough by the 21 year old receptionist. I am humiliated. Still... I am the one meeting the clients and writing their quotes. I am the one smoothing over the ruffled feathers of the customer who are interrogated and treated so rudely by that very 21-year-old receptionist.
I would like to scream. I would like to break something. With each sentence I write I realize I have forgotten that I need to do something else.... tickets for the next weekend's show, write to the director to excuse my daughter, decorate for a reception, work on the photo book, finish my taxes, get the cruise info ready for daughter, pay the bills, balance the check book, vacuum? hahahahah. Then there is monday... three meetings, my good friend has asked to meet for coffee (and I don't have time!), the purchase reports need to be done, the warehouse needs to be cleared up, the mess in my (very last) cubicle needs to be cleared up, tickets need to be finished, customers called back, quotes written, schedules minded.
the very most telling remark made about me was accidental. James came to give me a phone call. I said - "NO! enough already!" Later when I apologized to him for being snarky he replied that he didn't think I was mad - just being sarcastic - and that he really didn't think I had any limits.
I have about reached my limit. I can't continue this path. I have never felt like this before in my life.
Oh yeah, and the other thing on Monday - the doctor's appointment at 5pm to check on why my blood pressure can't seem to be put under control.
Any guesses?