||[May. 4th, 2015|01:12 pm]
I quit my job. Of five years. It hasn't sunk in yet. I still have anxiety. It's like, I'm waiting for the time I would normally leave to pass. Otherwise I'm holding my breath. I feel weird. I KNOW it was the right thing to do for myself. I have a problem of being a doormat in toxic relationships, this just happened to be a toxic work-ship. Once I miss this shift today, I'll know for sure I don't have to go in. It's weird how you can do that.|
I worked under the same boss since I started in 2010, and about two months ago he announced he was selling the place. Simultaneously, my co-worker gave her two weeks notice. So at first we're panicked because we might lose all our jobs. Then K leaves, and I'm back to 30 hours a week, five days. And the new owners assure us we still have our own jobs. ...and then some.
Suddenly I was running the fucking place--they replaced all the machines and computer so I had to re learn everything, which wasn't too bad, but since then things have been really stressful. The place has three owners but they're never around, but call and say different things. Then I have to find a person to train, without paying them for training (pretty sure THAT'S illegal) and our head housekeeper quits. So now I have to find another housekeeper and then, maintenance has to quit because he had been driving around without a license and got busted. Not to mention two of the rooms were out because the pipes exploded. It's been like one shit storm after the other and they tell me to just handle it. Two weeks ago, I tell the owner that I need to give my own two weeks because I can't do this job anymore, for multiple reasons. I recently moved to a different town where it takes 25 minutes to drive to the town I work in. that's almost two hours a day of just driving. Five days a week, for minimum wage. Not to mention we only have one car and he works the hoot owl shifts at cal poly, and then I'm only seeing lidia briefly in the mornings and I get to put her to bed at night. It's hard to explain how not seeing my family puts a strain on life. I live to take care of them, and so I tried explaining my situation, and he wouldn't listen. He kept talking over me, and offered me a dollar raise.
So, I took it because he wasn't letting me quit and I feel obligated to help everyone because they put so much pressure on me to do everything and be reliable.
So I got a nice paycheck a day or so later. It's two weeks later, this past friday, I get my pay check and it's significantly less than it should be. My hourly rate went back to minimum. Fucking bullshit. What the hell? And suddenly I'm like viewing myself outside of my body, screaming what the fuck are you doing? You're becoming one of those adults that sacrifices their happiness for a stupid job that I hate and is going no where. I got it when we were in a recession, that's not the case anymore. My husband makes enough money that what I make is just extra.
So I'm terrified to tell him though. Because I don't know how to stand up for myself in these situations. And we're driving and I can't stop crying and then I can't breathe...and then I can't feel my hands. Numb and tingly, they feel like they might float away.
He pulls over and holds me. I just want to go home. I want my mommy. I hate her.
Bean calls and talks me down. She tells me what I need to hear. I don't need this job. They're bullying you into staying, because when you try and tell people how stressed out you are, they don't understand it's not the same as when other people say it. She makes me realize no one fucking knows me, not even my own mother, but for some reason she get's it.
"You don't owe them anything, what's the worse that could happen? Yell at you? It's not illegal to quit your job."
I literally needed someone in my life to tell me that because I didn't know that.
It seems weird to admit that, but there it is.
and now, here I am. A housewife with lots of space to do....um. something.
I'm like a bird that's been stuck in a cage for so damn long that when you open the door and say "fly away" I just stare at the open space. Like, this is a trick right? A dream? I actually escaped something sucking the life and soul out of me? I get to do what I want? I get to figure out what to do with myself?
I'm going to pain, and write, and study. Maybe go back to school. I guess anything is possible? I hate saying trite things like that but I guess they come from somewhere.