An Ikea Bag and a Paper Box

An Ikea Bag and a Paper BoxAn Ikea Bag and a Paper Box

A couple of months ago, I had to quit my job, that I had worked at for almost five years, in fact, I was just days short of making it to five years at my former workplace. I didn’t quit because I found something better, or because I was moving, or because I was joining the peace corps, or whatever. Nope, I quite because things got to be unbearable there. This is saying something because my former job had been a wonderful place to work. I had friends there. I had my own office. I had the equipment I needed to do my job. I was respected and my opinion was trusted. People liked me. People depended on me.

The whole problem was that I got a new boss, who wasn’t very nice, or at least he liked to pretend that he was nice. They’re not above doing whatever it is to make themselves look good.

I was given a huge project to do, which I did by myself, which was a project traditionally done by an entire team. I was left out of the loop. I was told to do one thing and then not made aware when projects were changed. My opinions were not respected. I was not included in any decisions about the department. My time was wasted with extraneous projects. I was told that things would happen a certain way and then the opposite happened. I was accused of not doing my job, even when I was in fact doing my job and something that was supposed to be my boss’s job as well. To top it all off, I wasn’t even making enough money to live on while doing all of this.

None of this would have happened under my former boss, as in the one before the previous one, because he knew I did my job. He knew I worked, and worked, and worked and I didn’t mind so much the fact that I wasn’t making as much money as I should because I had a good environment to work in. The not doing my job part was offensive. I was doing my job so much that I had people come up to me and say they never saw me anymore because all I was doing was sitting at my desk working on this huge project I was supposed to be doing.

Since I am highly qualified in my field, even though sometimes I don’t feel like it, I know I’m worth more. I talked it over with my boyfriend and my family. They were all of the opinion that I should quit. I was qualified enough that I could find another job, my boss was going to continue being how he was and any more time I spent there would be miserable, and the area held a lot of negative connotations for me anyway because my ex was from the area, so I quit.

It was also abundantly clear that I wasn’t going anywhere else in the company. I had no place to go other than where I already was.

Everything I had in my office during the five years that I worked there fit into an Ikea bag and a paper box. All my little desk knickknacks, my books, my drawer full of tea and Ibuprofen–all of it. This was all I had to show for my five years at this place, which I had enjoyed working at until the new boss.

I did find a new job. I did get to move. I wasn’t even really out any money because of it because things just turned out well. I had a boyfriend to move in with, in a different area without bad memories. I had a temp job to work at until I found a new job. I did find a new job. My apartment even got rented in only a few days after I moved out so I wasn’t even out much rent for breaking my lease. I didn’t have to rent a U-haul to move. I got the money, or part of it anyway, from my retirement account at the former job.

The situation was stressful. I didn’t like the idea of leaving one thing and not having another to go to, but I made out ok. It was actually less than a month from the time I quit to when I started working at my new job. Things turned out well.

It still irritates me that one person, one person, just one, could push me out of something that was mine. It was something that I had and I was good at and this one person came along and took it away from me and accused me of things that weren’t true. I shouldn’t be surprised that one person can cause this much havoc in my life, as I had just experienced that with my ex. He turned my life upside down and it was just him.

The job had been my life for so long. I used to enjoy going to it in the mornings. I hate mornings and I hate getting out of bed, because I usually feel awful in the mornings, but I enjoyed working there. My job got to be something that I didn’t enjoy. I ended up dreading going there every day. It ended up being a chore. I miss the fact that I enjoyed it at one point and now I no longer can, but it’s not the same as it was.

I’m in a better situation now, things really did turn out better than I ever would have expected.



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