On Wednesdays, we wear pink…

I walked off the job on Monday and I am now at home applying for other jobs and listening to Laura Nyro records. It is not as tragic as it sounds, but maybe it is. I have $180 to my name and two bills totaling $240 due by February 14. Happy Valentine’s Day! I am taking our tax returns in tomorrow to get them back ASAP, but that will cost $80 and I can only hope we get the boon payback we did in 2010 —that was some good money, let me tell you.

Do you think I’m crazy? A lunatic? Jumping without a net? I think my husband is deeply distressed, and wouldn’t you be? I really can’t blame him. But here’s the thing: I had to do it.

I am 46 years old and if not a hairless child of God, at least a child of God. I am a good person, a smart person, and though nobody died and made me Angelina Jolie, I think I present myself very well. I work hard and don’t slack off or give trouble.

I’ve been through a lot in my 46 years. I’ve been suffering with a raging case of IBS since last year, and if that’s TMI, oh well. At least the heart attack is over, and my husband’s rare life-threatening blood disease. I don’t ask for much. I shop at thrift stores. I go to the library. If you bought me a funnel cake I’d look at you like I just got a Cartier watch.

And I’ve been through some shit jobs. I know it, you know it. I clawed and scratched my way up the chain at the newspaper, with male colleagues trying to stymy me at every turn. I loved the yarn biz, and though that ended badly it did for others, too. I was not the exception, or the rule. When you work for a small biz owner, the fish is rotten from the head down. I get it.

Did Barnes and Noble suck? You bet it did. Customers are the worst. BUT. The girls I worked with gave me faith in the next generation, and kept me on my toes. I miss them all so much, I wonder if they know how much they meant to me? And management had its good ones and bad ones, but I always felt things were handled….professionally. I wasn’t going to be kicked out the door without a lot of due process. And I never was.

The annuity firm job really only bothered me because of the crazy co-worker who left. Everything else I could tolerate. My boss was one of THE BEST bosses I have ever had. As my father lay dying in a Hospice bed, she grabbed me by the shoulders and told me to take off as much time as I needed, paid. Because I could never get that time back, and I needed to spend it with my family.

Who DOES that anymore? Who? What company? I’d like to know.

And even though I poke at Camp Scabies, I want you to know I spent a week training someone else and told them NOT TO PAY ME. Because I felt bad about leaving, and I wanted to do the right thing.

So believe me when I say, that if I walked out of a business on the fifth floor of an old office building on Monday at 4:40 p.m., telling the receptionist that I’d be right back, then got in my car and drove away with $180 in the bank, there was a damned good reason. And ask me, just ask, if anyone called me to see where I went, or why I didn’t come back.

You won’t ask because you know the answer. No one did. No one will. Nor do I want them to. We’ve all dealt with Mean Girls before, and that’s the truth. But this went way beyond that, even though they DID have a “Pajama Thursday” last week and conveniently forgot to tell me. Not that I really cared, because I don’t wear pajamas to work. Ever.

So I’m not going to write what happened, and go over it. I’ve told my husband. I’ve told my mother, and I’ve told a friend. I’m done. I don’t ever want to think or speak of that place again. I made another mistake. A huge one. But at least it’s over, and I won’t be having heart palpitations like I did every time the phone rang and it was the psychopathic supervisor on the phone for me.

Here’s a song I have been listening to for the last few days, because – well, because I do like The Kinks, and forgot what a fun little video this was. Sort of a rock and roll Atonement, if you will.

Cheers.

About

Buy me a drink, sing me a song, take me as I come 'cause I can't stay long.

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5 comments on “On Wednesdays, we wear pink…
  1. blueguju says:

    We know how fabulous you are Tanya! You’re a survivor and if they didn’t see the awesomeness that is you, then fuck them. I don’t always comment on your posts but I do read them, and I probably should comment more so you know I’m here. I have much love and respect for you, and oddly enough as I was reading this post I realized that my pj shirt was pink. Like, really pink. :)

  2. Toni says:

    Who would ever think that wearing pajamas to work would be a good idea ever? Seriously?! I’m with you I wouldn’t have worn pajamas to work either. At a certain point, you just can’t work for toxic people. I will say it again I’m really proud of you for leaving, and if they didn’t call to see where you went then you weren’t the first person to do that and that really says a lot about their office culture. You will find a great job this year I just know it.

  3. tanyadiva says:

    Thank you, Toni. I know, the whole thing just stank to high heaven. First week was great, and then the reign of terror began. I walked out at 4:40, said I’d be right back, and no one called and I got a check in the mail for one day of work on Wednesday. It was dated Monday. Wow. One of the Mean Girls told me that they had had people who left because they “Screwed up on purpose.” I wonder why?!

  4. lumay says:

    It sucks to leave without a net, but there are times when you physical and mental health require such actions. You did the right thing.

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