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Tuesday, February 28 The day before I turned twenty-eight I had a job interview at a company that I really want to work for. I didn’t know that going in, but the people I met with had a genuine interest and belief in what they were doing. It was very obvious to me that the people who work there actually enjoy it. They smiled and said hello. At first, I was I was a bit taken aback, thinking it was too good to be true; thinking it was a bit too Stepford. But these people believe they are making a difference and work very hard every day to do so. I want to be a part of that. I want to work hard to make a difference too. When asked, I was honest and upfront about why I wanted to make a change. I need to work for a company that values the same things I do. Values that are not just words, but actions as well. I believe this company does that. On my birthday, I received a call from the recruiter asking for professional references. I supplied three the next day. The following Monday, I got another call from the recruiter, asking for me to come back for a second interview. I was frantic over what to wear. Last Thursday I met with the head of HR and potential co-workers as well. One of the women shares a love of community theatre. Another seemed guarded but friendly and was wearing nearly the exact same outfit I had changed out of at the last minute. The last is from the U.K. and was thrilled that I knew Bedford is just a bit north and west of London. I was two and a half hours late for work that morning. As I was walked out, the recruiter told me that they were going to bring in one other candidate and I would know something by the end of the next week. Friday, I got a notice from my apartment complex that I need to vacate by the end of March. It’s been only two business days since my second interview. And I’m on pins and needles. I’m stress eating and my sleep has been spotty at best. I have daydreams that I get a call and am offered the job, only to tell myself that I’m jinxing my chances by thinking that. Instead the call will be thanks, but no thanks. I’m not qualified enough. My shoes were bad. I talked to too much or not enough. And then I start to question my own motives. Do I really want this job for the right reasons? Or do I really want it because it will get me out here? Is that really a wrong reason? I do want the job – it’s something I can do and do well. It offers opportunities to keep learning and growing professionally, something I stopped doing here a long time ago. It means new people, new experiences and new chances. Maybe that’s really what I’m after. Maybe not. Either way, I’m leaving here. If I don’t get the job, my last day here will be March 24 and I’ll move out of my apartment and back to the home I where I grew up. As much as I want the job, the chance to have some time to clear my head is appealing. My aunt invited me to take some down time, new job or not, and visit Colorado for a couple of days. Even if I do get the job, maybe a view of the mountains is just what I need. 9:48 AM | allison | # | Monday, February 27 Sometimes I want to wear a sign around my neck that says “don’t talk to me right now.” Can’t people see by lack of acknowledgement of their weekends, general malaise from just being here and my utter lack of interest in their non-work lives, that I don’t really want to listen how there wasn't enough pasta at the pasta bar? I only feel a little bad about it. Seriously, how can these folks not take a hint? Are they so wrapped up in their own lives that they can’t see I’m just not in the mood right now? Hell, I didn't even ask how the weekend was. There was absolutely no provocation on my part. Just leave me a lone for one hour, let me drink my Diet Coke in peace, and we’ll talk when I come out of my funk. Capiche? Good. Otherwise I’m likely to take the sign around my neck and staple it to your forehead. 8:59 AM | allison | # | Saturday, February 25 Today is my friend’s birthday. We met barely three years ago, but she’s quickly become one of those people in my life who I love, rely on, and am lucky to know in this short time we have in this world. She’s one of those people who everyone wants to be their friend. I’m fortunate to count her as one of mine. On her birthday, I want to celebrate. I want to celebrate the fact that she giggles like Betty Rubble and it’s one of my favorite sounds in the entire world. And when she’s really amused, she laughs so hard there is no sound at all. I want to celebrate that she knows what I want to say even when I don’t. I want to celebrate what an inspiration she is to those around her: she’s generous in spirit, time and faith. I’ve learned from her how rewarding it is to give those things unconditionally to others. I want to celebrate that she speaks so many languages. Like the sound of her laughter, listening to her slip effortlessly from one language to the next is a nod not only to her abilities, but also to her recognition and respect of the different cultures and lives she fits in to. I want to celebrate her courage to live gracefully, truthfully and consciously. She is aware of the world around her and is making an effort to make sure those of us in her life are aware of it as well. I want to celebrate her weakness for tweenie movies, reality television and early morning movies on cable tv. She understands the reward of escapism and rejoices in the ability to do so, if only for a few short hours. I want to celebrate her ability to hug better than any friend I have ever known. And she always knows when you need one. I want to celebrate her fondness for the color red. Like her, the color draws the attention of others, is daring and forthright, and symbolizes love. I want to celebrate her pursuance of continuing education. She’s going back to school and will receive a degree – she’s going to be a teacher. I want to celebrate my friend. She’s patient and giving. She’s tests and engages me. I want to celebrate her life so far and the life that lies ahead. She makes those around her want to be the best person they can be. And that should be celebrated. Happy birthday, R. 9:00 AM | allison | # | Tuesday, February 7 Yesterday I had an interview for a Customer Service position through a personnel agency. Among other things, we discussed my reasons for wanting to leave my current place of employment. I was honest: it’s a values thing. The company I work for and my own personal values are just not the same anymore. I want to work in place that stands behind what we recommend to our clients; I want to work for a company that actually places value in their greatest asset, their employees, and does not just pay lip service; I want to work for a company that rewards employees based on merit and value and not on the employees that kiss the most ass. I don’t think that’s too much to ask. But I also think that it will take me some time to find someplace that is truly a good fit. Maybe that fit will be Last Call. I don’t know. I do know, however, that I don’t fit here anymore. We also discussed the possibility that the job I was applying for might not really be a good match for me. What I do now is boils down to customer service and I hate it. Most of my “customers” are internal and I don’t often feel like I really touch or have a direct impact on our clients. I like seeing the results of my work and I don’t get that here. If I moved into another position doing the same thing, I’d more than likely be setting myself up for frustration and aggravation again. My assigned consultant asked me what I wanted to do - after our Customer Service discussion, I told her I wasn’t really sure anymore and that I am unhappy enough to go back to waiting tables. She said that employers often look down upon people who are currently unemployed when looking for new candidates; being out of a job somehow makes them less employable. She told me that especially after a recession, all the good folks looking for jobs are snatched up right away. And post post-recession, the ones left, the folks who got laid off, the folks who were fired and those of us who just can’t take it anymore, get lumped into one big group. And as a whole, we’re not desirable. That statement alone is enough to make me want to try and stick out a little bit longer. But is my mental stability and health really worth it in the long run? Another thing that is making me take pause – bonus checks won’t be paid until the end of March. If I only stay until the 24th like I had planned, I won’t be eligible for payment. You must be employed up through the date of payment. I need to find my payout schedule and see if it will be worth staying the extra week. 6:42 PM | allison | # | Thursday, February 2 This morning my therapist and I discussed the possibility of me not working for a short amount of time after I quit my current job. That’s something that never occurred to me – not working was never really an option for me. But my therapist thinks I should consider taking time to “recover,” and that my leaving will almost be like a grieving process that people go through when a loved one dies. I’m not sure if it’s quite that drastic, but it will mark the end of a drawn out, tumultuous, five-year plus relationship. And that’s huge. As of today, I’ve been employed with this company five years, one month and seven days. That is a fucking long time. Five years ago, I was twenty-two and living in less than five hundred square feet above a BBQ restaurant. I worked evenings as a shift manager at a local pizza place and temped during the day at the Missouri State Teachers Association for the political action group. My evenings were spent mostly at home, watching Oz, Friends and Law & Order. I took long walks when it got dark because I loved Columbia at night. I chatted online a lot and went to a lot of movies where I could sit in the dark and be someone else. I started paying back my student loans and missed my friends who had moved away. I was working two jobs but making enough to pay the bills. I had enough to go out to dinner once in a while and could buy gifts for birthdays and holidays. Mentally, I was in a good place and career-wise had a wide open future ahead of me. I was happy. Fast forward to now – I work at a job I’ve learned to despise, but there is an end in sight now. My student loans are paid off and replaced it with a small amount of credit card debt. Luckily nothing so large my IRS refund won’t take care of it. I weigh 83 pounds less than I did and still take long walks. I tend to do those during daylight hours because my neighborhood is a little scary after dark. I spend a lot of time out and about with friends and family, going to live music shows, dinner and movies, seeing live theatre and participating in life. I still watch a lot of television, but the time I spend glued to it is getting less every year. I will always miss friends that I don’t see often, but I’ve made new friends that I love just as much. Mentally, I’m not in as good a place as I was five years ago, but I’m getting there. And my career path is wide open again and that’s exciting. The entire future is wide open again. And that makes me happy. 6:27 PM | allison | # | Wednesday, February 1 I’ve got a lot of stuff on my mind at the moment, not all of it heavy and weighty like everything I was thinking about yesterday.
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