Sunday, March 02, 2014
So, I think I've thoroughly regrouped after my performance evaluation. I've come to terms with the fact that if I'd had it earlier, this wouldn't have happened, that these people are not going to change their minds, no matter how ridiculous, and I shouldn't care what they think. I realize that I should have known once my primary supervisor jumped out of her chair, ran from the room and with a quavering voice whispered, "Drizella, can you come here for a minute?" that I already won. Wimp. I'm as innocuous as they come. It must be because I'm so "folksy."
Not for nothing, but I still didn't sleep well last night. I'm going to call the old boss today and hopefully get some insight from her. And I'm going to talk to a couple trusted colleagues and get their opinions on how to proceed. But one thing is for certain: I am never going to be put in a position to be openly judged by these stupid women again.
So I'm going home.
Not right now. My tenants' new lease started, ahem, yesterday, so I have a year before I even can. But I'm leaving before I get one more review from these people. Drizella doesn't know what I do? She's sure going to find out when I ain't there to do it any more.
In the interim, I'm going to cling to that glorious day when I know I'm going home, and I'm going to keep busy. Extra hours at my part-time gig to save up even more, but I know I can find a job back home. I'll start looking after World Cup (Who got tickets to two games? Woot!) And, since I'd be "going home," I wouldn't have to explain that I'm leaving this job because my supervisors are jerks. I can just say I want to go home. Plus, that's true.
And I need to keep busy. I need to make sure my posture's great, so I can keep my head high and my chin up. I need to sleep a lot, to make the time go by quicker. I need to eat from home more, to save money. I need to drink more water, also to save money.
I may be being a bit hasty. Our new boss started on Monday, and he seems really nice and normal. So I reserve the right to change my mind. But I won't be put upon like this again, regardless, and I want to go home, to my vet, to my diner, to my grocery store...and to my friends and my house. I didn't think I would after Sammy died, but I do. So I will.