Goodbye, Ego

I don't have a job now. I did have a job and now I don't because apparently the people there did not feel I fit into their schtick, their code, their fucking smug little group and so without warning I was asked to resign. How utterly humiliating. Why does the worst shit take place at the warmest, fuzziest schools and agencies?

Alright I cannot write much more about that now because it's too embarrassing. That's over. Who gets told that, that, ugh I cannot even write what they said because you may read it and think oh she must have done something strange and she has an issue yet blames all of these other people. Well, isn't it a mite weird when the Big Cheese basically tells you to blow off and then his First Lieutenant - how the hell does one spell that? - calls up the next day and apologizes? Isn't that kinda wacky?

Or maybe you're thinking why didn't she realize that the place was wacky, and if you are, well, you got me there. I did know it was wacky, I did have that pit-in-the-stomach thing, but I ignored it because it all sounded so good and fitting well with my family obligations and my kids' lives and all. But this guy asked me questions about my family in the interview. What a creep! So I said why are you asking me this? And he went on and on - one of those I love the drawl of my own voice old guys - about how he knew it was inappropriate but he did it anyway and he's a social worker blah blah blah.

Then I spoke to my therapist about how the first people were thoughtful and smart and engaging but the Big Cheese is a repulsive fat old guy - no offense to not-repulsive fat old guys - and we discussed it. She said maybe he was just one icky guy with bad boundaries and the rest of the people seemed kosher, so to speak. Ah! I could blame her. My therapist, that is. Let's call her Eileen because she looks like one of those women in an Eileen Fischer ad, although nowadays all the women are quite thin and younger than they used to be. No more gray hair.

Couldn't we, please, blame someone else for the fact that my professional life is in the toilet? That I hafta call references and be like "hi, they booted me after two minutes?" Is someone going to say it's about them and not me? Well, save it. I have had a hard time at work for years now. The pattern is they really love me, then I have a personal crisis and get really stressed, and then they don't love me. At my last job, I really could not keep up the pace and mourn my brother at the same time. But at this job they found out my son was in the hospital and ten days later it was like "seeya."

No punch line, but maybe a tremendous law suit? Alternatively, I could start applying for other jobs and watch a little daytime t.v. Oh, yeah, I'm doing that already. Goodbye, ego.