That Was Easy.

So. Only working three hours a day leaves a lot of time. I could be gardening and sewing and whatnot. I’m sleeping. Then I’m endlessly on the Internet.

I keep riding past cars thinking, “It’s gotta be almost time for Buena Vista to come in. Oh, wait. I don’t do that anymore.” “Hey, Kits Beach got a new scrape. But! Not my problem.” It’s weird. Responsibility is my default state.

I also keep browsing Craigslist and I’ll be happy to get whatever job I get, but, really? Those jobs look boring. I’m custom-building jobs in my head: Training octopi. Designing summer reading assignments for teenagers. Teaching underprivileged people how to bake artisan breads. I could do anything.

It’s made me wonder about what, exactly, my dream job would be.

I’m Out.

I tendered my resignation to the Co-Op today.

Tendered is probably the wrong word. I wrote and paced and muttered and edited and wrote some more until I had something that Rachel and Arwen both liked (thanks for being my sounding boards, both), and did not contain the phrase ‘sodden pile of wank’.

It was time. It went from being the best of jobs, even in the pouring rain or free-skating around jackknifed B-Line buses on black ice, to being something I dreaded. The fault lies solely at the hands of Tech Boss, and I made that abundantly clear in my letter.

Management probably won’t care. They didn’t care when Rock Boss was driven out. But I don’t want to work for a company that doesn’t care about me, a company that doesn’t acknowledge its mistakes. A boss that has cut my hours by 85%.

I am worried about money, but I’m optimistic that something will come along. I’m not that niche. I can teach, but I can also drive, pump gas, write, fold clothes, work a cash register, interpret animal behavior, answer phones, navigate the city, cook, grow plants, shelve books, and make investment strategies simple to understand. And that’s just the stuff I can think of right now.

Unlike Tech Boss, I can also punctuate correctly, and spell and choose words with precision.

The Co-Op just lost an astonishing asset. Too bad for them.

Unexpected Can Mean Good, Right?

I am not good at dealing with unexpected change. I wish I was. I wish I could just embrace the change. Go for it. Become spontaneous. But I can’t, especially when I perceive that the change is negative.

See that ‘perceive’ up there? That’s me trying to bend my thoughts around from fleeing like roaches away from change. I have to understand that not every change is bad. Not even when it looks bad.

Sometimes, unexpected change brings wonderful things: Love. Opportunities. Friends.

You see, unexpectedly, I am facing my second week of having no Car Jockey work. Tech Boss is so efficient, he has rendered jockeys useless. Until when? I don’t know. But I need that money. I’m using that money. That money tops up rent. It pays student loans. It buys toilet paper. And if I don’t have that money, I don;t have anything to even wipe my ass with.

So I may just unexpectedly bail on Tech Boss and feel, you know. Employed.

That would be good.

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