Yesterday was my last day at a job I had for almost 11 years. I chose to quit. Because it was sucking my soul out of my ears. I loved my job for 10 of those years. Then my first, addlepated boss left and I thought - great, we'll get someone who knows what they are doing to be in charge. BUT you know the saying - "better the devil you know than the one you don't." The new boss/devil turned out to be our worst nightmare.
That he disliked me and everything I did was painfully obvious from almost day one. He had his own ideas of how things should be done and I understand that. But after working there for 10 years, I had a pretty good idea of how things worked, and why. He was so certain on his own rightness, it never occurred to him that I might have some idea of what I was doing. It finally came down to the fact that I was wrong and would never, ever be right. No matter how hard I tried to adapt to his style of "management" it wasn't working. I felt like I was in an abusive relationship (yes, I have first-hand experience in what that's like) - I could try to keep our proverbial house clean enough to suit him but then I was too loud on the phone, or I spent too much time away from my desk, or worse, I don't have ESP and didn't know I was supposed to do XYZ until he officially reprimanded me for failing to do XYZ. Here's an idea - try telling me to do XYZ before officially writing me up for not doing it! Or once I finish XYZ, how about not writing me up because I didn't do it precisely the same way you would have done it, never mind the fact that you said do XYZ without telling me precisely how you wanted me to do it. Again, I'm not a mind reader.
Ultimately, I realized that I am not the person he wants in the job. So I'm not in the job any longer. The day I had to take a Xanax before I could even get dressed to go to work was the day I knew I was past the point of no return.
November 1 is my first day of freedom. I've spent most of it asleep. Decompression, I know. I don't have a new job. I'm planning to freelance. I know that it's entirely possible that 'freelance' is really Latin for 'starve,' but I'm willing to take that chance.
Leaving my job was in some ways really hard. I made a lot of good friends at my job. The best ones are ones I will keep. Still, not seeing everyone on a daily basis is going to be weird. At least I can now be myself with my friends.
No one is going to tell me that I laugh too loud or too much, that it's inappropriate to have little Mickey Mouse figurines on my desk, or that basically it doesn't matter what I do - it's wrong.
And that's my story. I'll keep you posted on how it works out, if you're interested. And I plan to have a website for my new venture. Once it's ready, I'll post a link here. Not hiding behind my pseudonym is another plus to quitting my job. Not that I'm planning to merge the two worlds - the fanfiction world and the freelancing world. But there can be some cross-pollination.
Thanks again for indulging me! I'd love to hear your story of survival!!!