Monday, October 12, 2009


Five days of my week-long blog lull can be attributed to my trip to Albuquerque, NM, for the 2009 Hot Air Balloon Fiesta, which coincided nicely with my mom's big bad 50th Birthday! Picture post from that event to come. However, before my departure, I was somewhat unceremoniously "let go" from my part-time (morning) job.

Here's a little back story on this job: I was hired about two weeks after the first breakup from The Man. At the time, I was heartbroken, lonely, and unemployed. A word to the wise-- Emotionally unstable and idle makes for a CHARMING combo. So, I scoured the internet, and out of pure desperation, took the first job offered to me: Part-time customer service for an online retailer specializing in the sale of Baby Keepsakes. For the first month or so, I tolerated the job. I was even good at it. After that, when the afternoon girl quit, I worked 8-hour days. I realize this is not miraculous or unusual and by no means impressive. HOWEVER, in this job, it was. Eight hours of phone calls from southern grandmothers-to- be, keeping me on the phone for up to half an hour, seeking advice and counsel on which version of the tacky baby book she should order: The loose-leaf or tight-bound edition? Oh, and while she has me on the phone, could I just place the order for her? And, Honey, do ya have a coupon code? It was either that or 8 hours of my creepy asshole of a boss, hovering near me with his bare feet and halitosis, or wandering the grassy knoll near the parking lot on his phone (still barefoot, mind you) for hours at a time.

It was a long summer. I can't tell you when exactly things went awry for me, but they did. I just stopped caring. I did my job satisfactorily, but it had to be so obvious that I was miserable. I would roll in, usually on time, unshowered with no makeup. I NEVER let this happen--some men get a 5:00 shadow--My hair gets a 5:00 grease spot. But I just didn't CARE. I literally dragged my ass in, sat in my chair twitching, and then bolted immediately when I had served my time.

So last Monday, I arrived to find the office completely rearranged and redecorated. And at 7:15am, my boss was there. He called me into his "office" and said he was letting me go. That it just wasn't the job for me, and while he was confident I will go on to do great things, it was clear I was unhappy. I tried to conceal my joy, but let it slip anyway. "I agree!" It was the most enthusiastic the man had ever seen me, since my interview, maybe. Other than the whole, "Oh crap, I have just reduced my meager income by about 60%" thing, I could not be more thrilled.

Most people would look at the last couple of weeks of my life and think, "Wow! A breakup and a firing--what a blow". I am quite happy to say that despite the occasional, "Well, fuck, I'm alone and largely unemployed" I could not be more relieved and excited about the way things are going. The breakup was a weight off of one shoulder, and the job a weight off the other. I'm free. Broke, but free.

There are lots of perks my (hopefully, somewhat) temporary unemployment afford me. Among them are sleeping in a bit, more time to work out, read, and write. And today, when I got home from nannying, I realized (as part of my dairy-free experiment) that the only thing on my to-do list was to hop on over to and find out how many calories are in an iced, double-tall soy latte. Nice.

Oh, 90 calories. Should anyone be curious.

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