Project Find Another Job Update: Take this Job aaaand...

shove it, shove it, shove it up your butt! Yahoo!!

I put in my two weeks notice last Thursday. Oh my god, I can't believe I did it. Finally. Its still taking time to sink in that after next Friday, I will no longer have to return to my personal job from hell. Right now, I'm counting it down by shifts (currently 3 to go) and stitching my pants together everyday, because I absolutely refuse to go out and buy another pair of khaki pants for 3 shifts, and then will never wear ever again. I probably won't believe it until Black Friday is over (for me, 11:00 at night) and get into my car. I will probably clap happily. I might even run over my apron a couple of times in the parking lot and then go screeching off into the night. I have never been so happy about escaping from somewhere before. And yes, this is an escape.

Its an escape from baseball caps, khaki pants that don't ever seem to fit me right, a broken down for the SEVENTH TIME this year espresso machine and from burning my fingers off. Its an escape from feeling and knowing that i'm 27 years old and responsible, yet treated like a 7 year old who doesn't comprehend the meaning of responsibility. From having people roll their eyes at me when i make suggestions for improvement and then being told "That's just not possible." An escape from crappy hours, stinky pay and yet being worked like a farm animal. Mostly, its an escape from a situation that is just not fixable. In three shifts, i get to say "This is not my problem anymore!" I can not wait.

My solution for getting out of the job is not perfect and not without its flaws. But its an improvement. If nothing else, there will be the opportunity for advancement, benefits and the closest to 40 hours that i've seen in the last year and a half, on a consistent basis. Leaving my current job has now given me the opportunity to focus on something I want to focus on...my career. On top of that, I have an interview with a TV station for their sales department. And, i've found two other jobs to apply for that I might actually semi-enjoy. We'll see. I still don't ask for much.

I feel like i've moved forward in the right direction. I feel like my soul died a lot within the last year of having to be at this job and feeling like there was no escape. I guess there always is an escape. Sometimes, you have to step back, ask yourself how much you are willing to take, willing to put up with, before you say "This is just not worth the paycheck." Money is important, especially if you want to live. I've just hit the point where I refuse to stress myself out when I can be somewhere else I am appreciated.

So, i'm still in food service. It won't be fantastic. But it will be better. And I can continue to look for another job in my field, figure out what I want to do with the rest of my life and maybe accomplish some life goals before I die. Unless I give up entirely and just sell my car and move to Tahiti. Tahiti could be good.

Limits...

Everyone has them. If they say they don't, they are lying. No one is that patient.

The point, where you feel your blood boil, your eyes cross and you're 99% positive that the next person who crosses your path is going to be strangled, because YOU HAVE HAD IT!

I knew my limits were being reached. I knew that I was starting to lose patience and that the mantra that I had been repeating to myself for a month and a half was starting to be listened to less and less. I even told the boy and his cousin this. That I knew it wasn't going to take much more before I was going to be pushed over the edge and the person in question was going to see a side of me that not many have seen, well, ever.

I'm a really patient person. A really forgiving person. I give people a lot of chances, sometimes at a cost to myself, because it allows me to be taken advantage of. Because that's the kind of person I am. I help people. I'm really good at it. But, as I've gotten older, I've started to debate whether its good for me.

So I excused the money owed. I excused the late nights of being woken up to arguments and yelling and partying, because I reminded myself "You were 19 once." I excused the irresponsible behavior as a phase that was going to pass and told myself "you are at fault too" more than once, when I took him to work and ended up late for work myself after I told him I couldn't do it, and he gave me the pleading eyes and I gave in, after I was really proud of myself for standing my ground. I even excused the night of having to sleep in a smelly, stinking of beer room because he and his girlfriend were drinking and spilled beer in the room I sleep in. (Not my bedroom at home obviously, because I would've lost patience a long time ago.) I excused a lot of things.

Last week, I woke up groggy and confused. Without looking at the time I knew something was off. The boy was lying next to me "What time is it?" "I don't know" "Has your alarm gone off?" "I don't know." "Well, look at your phone." "O---------k, where the hell's my phone?" Panic button pushed at 6:02 in the morning. I know I had my phone last night. I pulled it out of my purse, set the alarm, put it by my pillow and went to sleep. The night before was long, but not long enough for me to forget what I did with my phone. Its been a long few months, my purse had been stolen, which has led me to not think the best of people anymore, and take into consideration whether my phone had been stolen, which was the only conclusion either of us could come to, after calling it and not hearing it ringing anywhere in the house. The boy immediately got upset and went to talk to his mom about what happened, while I ran to my car and my parents house in hopes that maybe I had just left it in one of those two places even though I knew i hadn't. Even though I knew that friends had been in and out of the house the previous night and I knew that the friends are suspect, and that's horrible to think, but honestly, what else am I supposed to think?

I manage to get the boy to work at 6:40, while I have started simmering in a slow rage thinking more and more about the situation and how dare they take my phone! Mothertruckers, I'm kicking somebody's butt to the moon and back. And its not about the phone itself, I have insurance and so the phone itself is replaceable. Its about peace of mind. Its about being able to go to sleep and not having to worry about locking everything I own in a box, so I don't have to worry about it being taken. AAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!

By the time I get home, I already have a plan. Look in the house one more time. Maybe it got kicked and put on silent or something. If I can't find it, call work, call out sick, call the cops, call the phone company and get my phone turned off and then have the situation looked at until somebody is busted. I'm downstairs, tearing pillows off couches and moving couches away from the wall, when the boy's brother walks downstairs, around the corner and then asks "Are you looking for something?" "No, I tear all houses apart before I go to work, it helps me center myself, of course I'm looking for something!" "This?" and out appears the phone. DEEP sigh of relief and then "Where did you find?" "In the bathroom upstairs." "I never went up there last night." "Oh, well so and so must have mistaken it for theirs and took it up there and left it." Boy's brother walks away. I'm left going "what?"

I sit at work all day and process the situation and continue to get mad. I'm pretty positive I'm being lied to and am feeling taken advantage of. I'm staring at cups and if I had lasers shoot out of my eyes, paper coffee cups would've been on fire all morning long. My co-worker wanted to know what the cups did to me. I call a friend to discover that my suspicions have been confirmed, that I have in fact been lied to, and I am in a rage all over again. But this is the quiet plotting rage. Its the not good rage. I need to fix this, now, and I know it, or it will be impossible to repair the damage that has been done in my head.

The situation remained unfixed for two days. Not good. It only allowed me to continue to think and to get my thoughts together, to get them more coherent. I finally get a chance to deal with the situation, but I don't think it did me any good. I'm still angry. Worse yet, I'm continuing to be lied to, which is only making the situation in my head worse. I'm becoming more quiet, I'm being allowed to stew, and I'm telling you right now, that's not a good place for me or for the person I'm angry with. I'm not prone to vindictiveness, but its become too dramatic. And when things become too dramatic, I either become vindictive, or I walk away from it, and do my best to keep it at bay, because I'm trying to be the bigger person. I really don't want to react in either of those ways. I really can't in a way. He's almost family, and that's a problem. But he's thrown my life into an upheaval, and I am at a loss as to how to handle it.