The morning (well, afternoon) after the break-up, I woke to find an interesting email in my inbox. It was from the Executive Director of the job I interviewed for back in early April. (The one that I thought I did so well on, but was not offered the job.) The email was vague, saying that a position working with multicultural youth was available and was wondering if I was interested.
After meeting with her the following week, I discovered that the position was only part time. The guy they hired instead of me got an “almost full time teaching job” and they basically need someone (a.k.a. me) to come in and take care of the office stuff during the day. The specific duties sounded alright, but because I have a chip on my shoulder over the whole situation I was a bit pissed. If the person you hired cannot fulfill the job duties he was hired to do, why are you not firing him so that someone else (a.k.a. me) can take the full time position? I can’t survive on a PT income and don’t have high hopes for finding a second part time job any time soon considering it’s been over 9 months now and this is the only offer I’ve got.
BUT… Despite my hesitations and reservations, I accepted the position. Although it’s less hours, it does pay more per hour, is flexible, and most importantly, it’s not my old job. And you never know what opportunities it could lead to, right?
BUT… it’s a bad-sign when you have to convince yourself to do something your gut is telling you not to.
My start date was scheduled for Monday, September 16th which, at the time, gave me more than a full week before actually starting. With everything going on, I needed the week to get my life and my sleep schedule at least somewhat back in order and mentally prepare myself to going back to work after being off for over 3 months. More importantly though, I am still in the running and anxiously waiting to hear back from the college for the job I really want. I’d hate to start work only to change my mind if (when?) the college job does pan out.
BUT… I woke up on Tuesday, September 10th to a phone call where in my half-asleep state agreed to start the next day. Ugh.
Yesterday (my first day on the job) I could barely get my ass out of bed in time – even though I started at 12:30pm. It was a rainy, gloomy day, and because I’m too cheap to pay for parking, I walked the 15 minutes and was soaked by the time I arrived. Not a great start. I spent 2 hours of my 3.5 hour shift sitting in a staff meeting where I had no idea what they were talking about. I anticipated being lost to some extent, but this was a lot more then my poor brain could handle. At least everyone seemed friendly.
I was then shown my office, and had 2 co-workers “train me” – BUT… everything they said contradicted each other, contradicted what the boss had told me, and contradicted the job descriptions (yes, plural!) I was given. When I was finally left on my own to “get acquainted with the files” I had no concept of what the hell I was supposed to be doing.
Oh, and my new boss who “didn’t care when I worked as long as it was 17.5 hours a week”, was now telling me that I have to be here all day on Fridays. And then I overheard her tell someone else my schedule is half-day Wednesdays, and full days Thursday and Friday. BUT… she never asked me or told me this.
*** Insert panic attack here. ***
Thankfully I’m alone in my little office at the end of the hall, so I was able to freak out and calm myself down undetected. I ventured out of my little office-cave en route to the bosses office for clarification only to discover that almost everyone was gone – including my boss. Apparently the office closes at 4:30 and no one bothered to mention that to me.
*** Insert panic attack number 2 here. ***
I got home and promptly sunk into my couch, turned on the Netflix, and freaked the eff out on my family (via Facebook messages) and my “work mom” (via texts). I just wanted someone to tell me what to do!
I threw myself a little pity party, and reluctantly went to bed where I laid awake until 3 am! (Which made getting up at 8:15am today a bitch.) I eventually convinced myself that quitting this new job and going back to my old job at the theatre was my best course of action.
Because I’m weak.
And I hate change.
And I want more stability in my life right now, not less.
And I need the money.
BUT… most importantly, I have to listen to what my body and my gut is telling me. I’ve been ignoring my “Jiminy Cricket” for far too long, and imagine that’s why my life has gotten so off-track.
BUT… I still don’t feel good about this decision. It just feels like the least crappy option available. I haven’t acted on this decision yet, and I’m sure I’ll flip-flop a hundred more times before I actually do anything. Today, my second day on the job, went a lot better, but it still just doesn’t feel right.
Did I just jump into this “back to work” thing too soon, before I was ready? Am I just not giving the new job a real chance? Am I being completely dumb thinking that going back to my old job is the better option? Or is there something better out there waiting for me?
This post was proofread by Grammarly. Try it - it's FREE!