Tuesday, August 11, 2009

Who's gonna clean up this mess??

How do you spell stress? J-O-B.

For the last couple of weeks, my job aka plantation assignment has pulled some low-brow, are you serious shit. I found out just last Wednesday, there is a chance this office will close, and allegedly I will find out “maybe” this week. But the information was passed on in such a cavalier manner, they might as well have asked me “Could you please pass the jelly?” That night, after I unchained myself from my desk, I walked the streets on Manhattan and I felt I couldn’t breathe. Well, I wasn’t taking full breaths, just quick sips of breath to keep me moving. And thinking. Then I asked myself Is this what a panic attack/anxiety attack feels like?? And without any medical degree behind my name, I replied back YES. I had to let this go.

And quite honestly, I’m okay with it. Either way, I’m fine, fine, fine, fine, fine, fine…WOOOOOO. If you believe that then you must believe this woman is 29 (sidebar: why doesn't Lou Dobbs and his crew ask her to produce her birth certificate??). There are moments when I do feel this way. That I'm gonna make it after all (cue throwing beret in the air). But other times, I get so overwhelmed by the maddening uncertainty of it all and give in to darker doubts in my mind. But even in those times, something tells me I'm going to be okay. I'm holding on to that belief. I hope its not a delusion of grandeur (or as I like to say sometimes "a delusion of grand marnier")

The worst part of it all is the waiting to find out. I've come to terms with either option for the most part. Its the sitting and waiting part that feels like someone is peeling me apart, layer by layer, piece by piece. I just want to know - one way or another. Dragging this out is like a prison sentence. Not that I know what prison feels like because like I always say "I'm too pretty for prison and too fine to do time." And then to know that there is a 50/50 chance of not even finding out this week?!!!! Ugh! That makes me want to pull somebody's wig (which will also happen this week to the above referenced chick on the "reality" show she is on - my ultimate reality show guilty pleasure by the way). Don't get me wrong. I'm grateful for the heads up. It could have come completely out of left field (sidebar: why does left field get the bad rap??). I could have been unceremoniously dumped and left to scramble for Option B, C, and/or D. SO yes, in some ways I'm grateful. But its been almost 2 weeks since the proverbial shit got acquainted with the fan and someone has a clean up on aisle "me". I'm ready to move forward. I'm just waiting on the light to change so I can turn right or turn left.

If I'm going to be honest, I might as well go into full disclosure. Truth be told, this isn't for me. The perks are nice, my boss is nice, Pinky is entertaining, the money is decent, but the work? There are days when I feel like I am getting dumber by the minute. Worse than when I had to "dumb down" my vocabulary when I taught elementary school. And the isolation kills me. I can go hours (HOURS) without uttering a word. Just me and my projects alone in my office. I'm the only woman, the only person of color, and the only one under the age of 50 in my office. This is the most anti-social job I've ever had in my life. From 9:30 (ish) to 5:30 (yeah right), I live an isolated corporate world existence. You do realize that this totally goes against my grain, right? Hello?? Social butterfly forced to be unsocial for pay. Sounds like a dark indy film with grainy shots and subtitles.

So for now, I’ve had to put a few plans on immediate HALT status but others I’m moving forward with, with or without this plantation. Nothing I’m ready to talk about…yet. But you guys know me. Eventually, I share (that’s what she said…hahahaha).

1 comment:

rashad said...

You'll get another job my friend, and this will all be forgotten