Thursday, August 23, 2012

Another one bites the dust.

So sometimes I think if it weren't for the job I had in the last state I lived in, I wouldn't be good at holding on to a job at all.

That's really not true.  I've held on to a couple for several years, which is an accomplishment considering my age, I think.

Today I got canned.  To be fair, it was coming and I should have seen it and predicted it.  I had turned in my resignation yesterday and offered to give them a month.

Back to the beginning...

I started a new job in June.  Full time, excellent pay, health insurance.  All sounds good, right?  Of course.  Except right after I started, my son began acting out again.  Worse than before and in ways that required me to miss work—for appointments with everyone from the shrink to the court system.

As time went on, my fibromyalgia grew increasingly worse.  There wasn't a day that went by that I wasn't in pain.  I'm in pain as I write this.  I saw my doctor at the end of last week, who snapped at me for not seeing her sooner (I couldn't with the schedule I had) and immediately ordered me out of work for several days.  My first day back was yesterday, and I turned in my resignation.  It was coming anyway.  I was fairly certain I was either going to get canned or resign, so I tried to beat them to the punch.

Today, I woke up with a migraine and horrible nausea.  I called in.  A couple hours later I got a call back, informing me they had decided to let me go.  AND they wouldn't be paying me for this week.  At all.  Thankyouverymuchgoodbye.

But would I like to come in tomorrow and meet with everyone to say goodbye?

I had been hanging in desperately for the health insurance this job offered.  Now that isn't an option, and it's my sneaking suspicion this may be the real reason they let me go so quickly, so that I couldn't access it.  But whatever.  I've learned the hard way that there's a limit to everyone's graciousness.  They have tried to be patient to some extent and I couldn't deliver.  The stress has been too much.

To be honest, I'm not sorry about it and it's not like I'm going to miss it.  But my feelings are a bit hurt.  And it's left an unpleasant taste in my mouth.  People that I thought understood what I was going through clearly don't.  People that I thought I could trust, maybe not so much.

So I'm dusting off the resume and sending it back out.  The right one will come along when it should.  At least I pray to God that it will.