Archive for the ‘work’ Category

I feel like I’m stuck. Stuck at my job. Stuck in this city. Stuck in debt.

As much as I like the actual company I work for – great benefits, great people, great interest rates on loans, heh – the job itself is a bit soul-sucking. And I think I’m just not actually cut out for corporate culture. Business casual because of the industry I work in is all well and good, but I work in a call centre. I don’t even actually speak to my clients face to face. Who the fuck cares if I’m wearing dress pants or neat and tidy jeans?

And let’s not even get into the fact that I don’t wear make up and I’d really rather not dye my hair to cover the incoming grey hairs. Not even 28 yet and I have quite a collection of grey hairs sprouting. I have been plucking them, though. I am a little bit vain about my hair colour, I’ll admit. It’s a pretty nice shade of chestnut that can look more auburn in certain lights (I just had to wiki the differences between chestnut and auburn for hair colour!) It has really attractive, natural high- and low-lights. I don’t wear make up because I don’t feel it’s necessary; and for this I know I am lucky. I have dark lashes, naturally dark lips and a really nice complexion. These are facts, and I don’t like the idea of putting additional chemicals on my face than what is absorbed through the atmosphere around me. However, I realize this could possibly be seen as unprofessional? uncaring? unattractive? inappropriate? by many people in the corporate culture. But seriously, it doesn’t affect, nor reflect, my work.

It’s also hard to get passionate about the industry I am in. I know it is not for me, but I am also terrified of job-hunting and trying to sell myself. I don’t hold myself in high regard, so it’s hard to figure out how to convince people that they should take a chance on me and hire me.

It doesn’t help that I can’t figure out what I want to do or where I want to work.

Tuesday night, I ended my work day sobbing at my desk. 4 different people came to try to help me out with what I was doing, but I waved them all off. As soon as I left the building, I called my mom and sobbed at her, asking her why I couldn’t be normal. When I got home, I got in the shower to cry, and to think. When I got out, I told the Pirate that I was going to quit my job the next day.

Wednesday morning, I woke up so much more hopeful than I have been in weeks. I decided I would give my unofficial notice for the end of the month, because there’s currently a hiring going on. I didn’t want to leave my employers in a lurch, just doing another training session and then finding they should have hired another person. I had no idea what I would do for work, but I knew that my mental health was more important than that uncertainty. I had enough in the bank to cover another month of rent and bills, and surely I could find something, anything, to pay the bills, quickly.

My immediate manager wasn’t in on Wednesday, but I didn’t realise that right away. Shortly before 9 am, I sent an email to my department manager, asking her if we could chat. I told her that I was not in a good place, and that I needed to do something about it now. I let her know that I was leaving not because I disliked my coworkers or the company, but that I was overwhelmed with the new training I had recently received, and that I didn’t feel like I was an asset any more; I wanted to let her know now, so she could hire another person. I mentioned that my home life with my Pirate was suffering, and that was not something I could let continue.

She wouldn’t let me quit. No, that’s not quite right. She offered to reduce me to a lower-level employee, with less responsibility (and stress!), with fewer hours, because she didn’t like the thought of letting me quit without having something else lined up.

So, I’ll be cut back from 37.5 hours a week to 25.5, to maintain my benefits. My health and dental, vision, and wellness benefits will continue to be offered to me while maintaining these hours, and so will the loan at a disgustingly low interest rate I recently took out to fast-track my debt repayment. I’m going to be just pulling in enough to pay my bills and survive, but my direct manager, after speaking with her on Thursday and explaining how terribly I actually have been doing, has offered me additional hours when I need them.

I opened up to a couple of coworkers and another senior manager about what’s been going on lately, and I’m so lucky to say that I have coworkers who have extended the hand of support while I’m dealing with this latest descent to (almost) rock bottom. I have a very rough plan of what I am striving for. I have to use my extra hours a week for a reason, and not just to fuck around on the internet. I am working on a distant-ed class right now that I want to hammer out and get done. I want to get running again. I might try to find somewhere to volunteer. I am thinking of giving myself a month or so to adjust to the new work schedule and healing myself, before I start pushing and looking for a new, or additional, job.

I am more hopeful than I have been for all of 2012. I feel like the cloud that has been wrapped around me for the last number of months is loosening it’s grip, and that I am able to lift my head enough to breathe fully and deeply.


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