Ironic or Awesome

Of course, right after I would post how terrible my job is God decides it’s time for a change.

I quit yesterday.

Walking in Wednesday morning was like any other morning. I was there a little early, said good morning to my boss and got started on my work. Then my boss came in and sat down — never a good sign.

She asked if I was happy, which is like when your mother looks right at you and asks if the cup in the living room is yours – she knows it is, but she wants you to admit you’re a slob.

So I told her that, no, I was not happy. Then she preceded to tell me how she knew I was unhappy and actually never happy.

She spoke of my writing never being up to par, which was only to be mean and hurtful because my writing is great — I don’t care what she says.

She spoke of how I’ve said I’m tired and she thinks I may be depressed, which as my mother said when I called crying at the hurtful things she said is the stupidest thing ever.

Outside of work, and even at work,  I’m usually happy and sometimes annoyingly so. She spoke of how her precious paper is incredibly important to her, more important than the actual people working there.

So, I gave her my two weeks, and she, wanting to put me out of my misery said I could just finish out the week.

I went to lunch, had a sangria and a brownie tall cake and decided that I never wanted to see that woman’s face or step in that doom and gloom building again. I went back, called and told her that today would be my last day.

Then she asked why.

She, the spawn of Satan himself, asks why after she says I’m useless, untalented and possibly depressed; she asks why I wouldn’t come back to the paper that she thinks is more important than the actual employees who make it happen.

I told her I just didn’t think I could make it for two more days, and as I said it I don’t think I could last for two more minutes.

On my way out, she gave me a copy of the paper and told me to read her column. It said, in not that great of words, if you’re unhappy do everyone a favor, including yourself, and move on.

The fact that she wrote that about me, at least two days prior to talking to me and publishing it for all to see was really just the cherry on top of the experience that was my first job.

Well, I’m gone!

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