ABOUT ME

About me: I'm 40 and added another gherkin to our pickle party of a family. My husband Chuck, our 8-year-old Junior, our 5-year-old Everett, our baby and I live in a town in Connecticut I affectionately call Mulletville Lite (aka my childhood hometown). My friends call me Nutjob, and they're right. In my husband's spare time he dresses up as a Viking and chases ghosts (and I'm the nutjob?). When I'm not busy working as a graphic designer, I lie in a ball in the corner.

Monday, May 28, 2012

I really hate those good-bye bagels

Today is an important day. First and foremost, it's Memorial Day. I'd like to thank all the men and women who have served, and continue to serve, this country. One of these days, when I finally find an American flag that's actually made in America, I will fly my flag with even more pride.

Until then I will continue to grimace at the "Made in China" label scorched on the handle.

Today is also my last day at work at Mulletville Corp.

Yes, that's right. After years of talking about it I finally did it.

I timed my exit so I wouldn't have to work my last day. I also called out sick half of last week so I'd miss any farewell parties planned in my honor. You may think me an asshole, but my departure was long overdue. I'd mentally said good-bye months ago. Eating cake (or a dreaded bon voyage bagel) alongside my co-workers would have felt like a final—and very sad—pity fuck.

I'm elated and terrified about leaving Mulletville Corp. Elated to stop trying to juggle two children under the age of five, grocery shopping, a full-time work schedule, nursery school, laundry, a husband, and pooping all at once.

Terrified to think of how we'll manage financially.

On the bright side, I landed myself a part-time job (no, not with the teeth people). I'll be doing some freelance graphic design and writing. I'll be tutoring. If all that fails to bring in enough money, I'll stay up until the wee hours trying to write the next Fifty Shades of Grey (Seventy-five Delineations of Adultery, maybe?) or I'll just breed something, like geckos.

Mmmm, geckos.

There's something I never mentioned about Mulletville Corp. Sure, there are countless posts about the crazy antics of my co-workers and the insanity of my superiors (if you feel like sifting through this blog a little you'll stumble upon them soon enough), but I never told you one of the most important memories I have of the place.

It's this: Almost 10 years ago, after my second interview with the head of the company, I knew the job was mine. I knew it. I got in my car. I imagined myself working there. And I started bawling my fucking eyes out. I knew that even though the money would be great and the benefits would be great and the vacation time would be great, I knew I'd be miserable there. There was a sickness in the air; a toxicity in the water, if you will. You could feel it.

Leaving that place in an ambulance was so fricken fitting, as were all the workplace injuries.  My body literally was throwing itself into furniture so I would get the message and quit. Though I still chuckle about the breastfeeding committee. By far that is my favorite memory. Or was it the bus riding turkey?

So much stupidity, so little time to blog about it. 

That's my big Memorial Day news. What's yours?

7 comments:

Mrs. Tuna said...

Good to be having a fresh gig.

Patty Woodland said...

Congratulations. I am sure you will be much happier in the less toxic environment of kid's poop and vomit.

Enjoy

Leanne said...

Nothing. I got nothing to share, but I'm THRILLED for you that you're out of there. Now, get writing. Can you really write smut? I can't I just sit and blush.

VandyJ said...

Good for you! Have fun with those little boys you have. Looking forward to hearing about your adventures with them.

Magpie said...

Lots of luck!

Bella said...

Congratulations on getting out of there!!! Will we now get more frequent posts from you??????

Frogs in my formula said...

Yay for bodily functions and blogging more! (Hopefully not about bodily functions!)