Part Time Job @ MindSay 
so last week i went to work for my big huge company in new york. i was on the clock from 7:00 am until 10:00 pm. i was making a good impression, putting in all my effort, hitting the pillow hard each night. i thought i was really doing great.
i had excellent reviews from my boss and was really kicking ass at my job. i was feeling like a superwoman. i was a mommy, a career lady, and a social mountaineer. i was going to reel in the big ones. i was going to rule the world.
on thursday we had a office lunch. my boss's second assistant ordered us in salads with pesto dressing. unlucky for my she thought a soy allergy was no big deal. unlucky for me i had a reaction.. and passed out.. and had to get a helping hand from some very loud new york paramedics.
in the series of events that followed i found out i was pregnant. it was probably the worst timing in the history of bad timing. everyone in the group knew. the head of sales. everyone.
my company has a reputation for hiring pretty girls. it's just the nature of sales. the chauvanistic bosses somehow gravitate towards employees they can flirt with. i know that half the reason i was hired was because my boss was probably sitting there in the interview, wondering what i looked like under my green suit.
i got past that fact because, despite how many times it was mentioned that part of my great negotiating ability was due to the fact that i was a "young attractive female," and despite the fact that one of my clients actually warned me that they had canned the last girl in my position for "getting too old," i really felt that in my heart i knew i was smart, and not just a pair of legs, and i believed whole heartedly that if i worked hard enough and smart enough that everyone would see that, and i would suceed. despite the fact that all the upper management was male. despite the fact that my boss made fun of any of the women in the company that he thought were getting "chunky."
i never played into thier flirting games, i always changed the subject when they mentioned my appearance. i was convinced that, sooner or later, i could dazzle them with my mind instead.
so, that last week in new york, they found out i was pregnant. big deal, i thought. i'm putting in my dues. i'm working my tail off. it'll be fine. i'll just tell my boss on monday before the company gossip-mongers get a chance and everything will be alright.
my boss called me up the next day, asked me to cancel my appointments and meet him at a coffee shop to "discuss a variety of topics and issues." i ignored the skeptical voice in my head that questioned his motives.
i walked in, guns blazing, ready to assure him that i would not only keep working 80+ hours through my pregnancy, like i had been doing so far, but i would be back as soon as maternity leave was over and come back strong.
i never got a chance.
he fired me.
he cited these little reasons. bizarre things that almost sounded as if he made them up. the elephant in the room, i suppose, was the pregnant one.
i'm sitting there, looking at him, evaluating him for the first time. in general, i try not judge people, unless they have acted in some horrid way towards me, and i am forced to. there had been several times where he acted like a smug elitest while i was working for him, but i shrugged that off and gave the guy the benefit of the doubt.
i realized i had been working for a smug asshole of a man. the kind of man that had no idea what it was like to wonder how you were going to buy groceries for your son. the kind who married a woman they didn't really love, in hopes that one day he would aquire her parents' money. the kind that had no idea why on earth people were rallying for socialized healthcare. the kind that had never went out of his way to give change to a homeless man, but would hold the door open for any lady he met, as long as he thought she were hot, or rich. the kind who scrunched his face up when he came across a painting about the prolific sadness of the female soul because the colors didn't match the rug his wife had picked out from pottery barn.
as he sat there, firing me, i felt sorry for him. he was not a person, he was an empty shell of one. he would do whatever he needed to get ahead, and in the end, live his whole life without any sence of being or connection. he will die in the best hospital, attended by the best doctors, and be burried in an armani suit, his sould having left his body decades before his dissention.
as he finished his "good luck" speach, with only a slight hint of condescention in his well-trained voice, i knew i did not want to be like him. and while he thought he was doing himself a favor by giving himself the opportunity to offer my position to a girl who would flirt with his pompus face, smile at his cheesy jokes, compliment his ugly tie, and albeit end up giving him a blow job in the coat closet at the company christmas party, he was actually doing me a favor by allowing me to step back and realize what this really was, who he really was, and what the corperate lifestyle was all about. my desire to put my child through college might have kept me from seeing it for years.
i have been so concerned with giving my son the best life possible, that i almost lost the part of myself that can feel, that can see, that can realize when she's comprimising her soul. the best part. i refuse to become the empty shell that is required for the assention up the corperate ladder. i care about people too much. i have too much to say. i have so much to teach others. i can never play the role of an anonymus business drone.
i will find a way to provide for my family and be free. i will change the world.
little robots like my now ex-boss will do nothing but produce fake smiles and empty nods for the rest of thier life. i feel sorry for him.
so now i am a stay-at-home mother. i am also a writer.
i never made time to write during my corperate ladder phase. or psyuedo empty-shell phase, as i will now be calling it. it is time to make time for the very thing i was born to do.
and with my sword-pen, i plan to change the way people look at each other in a very short time.
al things grow, all things go..
to be continued....
Still so hot here it feels like a sauna. I'm not doing much except house work and my part time job, which i love.
Still looking for a gf, Sam isn't going to work out she is just from a different generation, delicious in bed i have to admit, but we enjoy doing different things. She will remain a friend, maybe a fb if hubby is ok with it (he is ok with lori why not another ..lol).
My son is coming home next month YAY!!!!!!!!
I need a change in scenery or something to make me squeal .... something to excite me.
I've read 4 books in the last 3 weeks.
i think i need to see lori .... i really need another gf ....i said that already.
nothing new otherwise .... i am so boring!!!
hugs everyone!
Ummm. I'm still out loking for a job. I should have a part time job at UPS soon I just have to get a hold of a guy.
My dad is pretty much over his flu.
I'm still hopelessly single and getting more sick of it as time goes on. The problem is I don't get out enough and when I do get out it's never with anyone. Like, I'm way too damn independent for my own good, you know? Add in the fact that I am a big awkward, shy, dope around girls and I'm just screwed. When I meet a girl I think I might like one or all of three thing usually happens 1) I become her friend and get stuck in the dreaded "just friends" type of relationship 2) I clam up and just act shy or 3)I act like an idiot and ruin it. I never just come out and say that I'm interested in them.
Oh, there was a riot over at MSU. Which is funny because that place riots at least two times a decade. When I heard that they were bringing back CederFest I laughed cuz I knew it would become a riot. I find it really fuinny that the headline of the Detroit New is that MSU doesn't think it will hurt their reputation. Umm, excuse me, but rioting is your rep. so if anything it helps it.
Oh and it's a beautiful day today. It's all sunny and warm. I'm loving it.
I'm also loving my new baseball cap I bought a few weeks ago. It's got the Mustang logo on it.
Ok I'm babbling.
My blog is, I guess, a journal of sorts, although it isn't really a journal since I envision a journal as being a private, secret thing, whereas all of my blogs are out in the open. Unless I make them friends only, which seems to be a bit of an oxymoron, since friends only on the internet is like shouting a secret on a street corner and then saying, "Oh, everyone who heard that who isn't my friend, ignore and forget what I said."
Do I really have important things to say? Important enough to display it to the entire world through phone cables (and now cable cables)? I've never really been able to keep a real journal. I get bored with it. I guess it's sort of redundant, to write your thoughts down, when at that moment, they're kind of in your head already, so what's the point in making sure they're in two places at once? Unless, of course, you use a journal as a kind of history book, and you go back and read them after you've forgotten what you've written.
But some of the appeal of the weblog is that other people can read it. I can connect with millions of people all over the world, and I can tell them all my secrets, my desires, my wishes, my problems. Maybe sharing it makes it feel real, like it's not just something happening in my head, and I know it's not, because other people are reading it too, so it can't be fake, right?
And maybe that's true, that the internet is more reality than actual reality, since anyone who logs onto the internet sees the same exact thing on one page, whereas in real life there are so many different ways to look at just one single thing. No matter how many inferences anyone puts on my words, or I put on my words, my words are constant. Once they're there, everyone reads the same letters, everyone sees the same thing. When I speak, it's not so easy. My inflection changes what I mean, what other people see me doing changes what I mean, all of our senses play a part. The internet is just sight. Does that make it easier to validate, that it's only one sense, and it's always the same?
Maybe I'm going crazy from looking at a fucking light bulb all day.
On a completely other note, I've been starting to seriously consider how happy I am at my job. Sure, I like what I'm doing most of the time, and I like most of the people most of the time. There's only four, so it's not that hard. But is it really what I want to do? What happened to my collegiate aspirations, my librarian dream, my creative careers and life plans? I'm working at a fucking shoe store. And I make about as much money as I made at the newspaper. The only difference now is that Shane supports me, so we can live on our own. I'm a leech, a little kid playing dress-up all day while my caretaker goes out and brings home the bacon. And when I have days off, I sit at my little computer, or my little piano, or on my little couch, and I do useless things like a lump, with no real direction, no real passion.
Although--and here's the rub--I've sort of made a commitment to my employer. I'm more competent, electronically, than pretty much everyone there, and I'm really more competent, in all ways, than one of the employees. In fact, my employer's plan is to use me to replace the employee she no longer thinks is an asset to her business, but she's afraid to fire her in case the unemployment she pays goes up. So while I dream about working in a real office, with a phone and a desk, and pictures of my family, and little chotchkies everywhere to make the space my own, I feel half-trapped, half-glad that I have this other thing that I'm pretty okay at, and have probably the best job security I could ever have. I'm trapped in it because part of me wants to do more, wants to make more, and I'm glad of it because it means I don't have to try. It means I'm safe.
I secretly go to www.careerbuilders.com and careers.wa.gov and the Timberland Library website, looking at jobs that I could do instead, where I'd work every day, and I'd make not quite as much as Shane, but at least more than I do now, and I'd be satisfied. Would I?
I honestly don't know. But I know that there's a nagging part of me that isn't happy with settling for a part-time job where my skills greatly exceed those required for the position, where my pay is hardly enough to give myself spending money, where I'm safe. I don't want to be safe, I want to be dangerous. I want to take a risk. And yet I'm deathly afraid of the consequences of my actions if I quit or even start seriously looking for another job. For one, I have some sense of obligation to my employer (whether it's warranted or not), and for two, what if I can't find another job? What then?
I can feel the itch. I want something more.
*snickers* Ladies and gentlemen, your random quote of the day. :p
So, how's everybody been? Having a good summer so far, I hope? Me, I'm in the market for a part-time job, possibly at Wal-Mart. My dream job it is not, but better than nothing. Also gonna put in an appearance at GameStop and RadioShack, just in case.
Been getting somewhat better at Guitar Hero. I kick ass on Medium (I have perfects on Heart-Shaped Box, Them Bones, Last Child, Tattooed Love Boys, Jordan, Less Talk More Rokk, Radium Eyes, and one other thing that I'm sure I'm forgetting.), but not so much on Hard. I'm better than I originally thought, but I'm nothing spectacular. On a good day, I can beat Jordan on Hard. Although I do consider that an accomplishment unto itself, it's not that impressive to watch. It's just a lot of plinking and carefully rationed use of Star Power. =P
Also Animal Crossing has been ruling my life as of late. That and Final Fantasy VI Advance. Yay for video games. lol
Well, I just called Wal-Mart and they want me to come in and fix a few things on my application. Formalities and whatnot. So, I shall see you all later. :)
Until next time,
TheFallenAngel
P.S. -- Oh, I remember the other one I got perfect on!! Thunderhorse!! (Duh, it was the first perfect I got. :p )
P.S.S. -- And Cherry Pie. I got a perfect on that too. :p
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