Do you know what it is like when you are working a puzzle and you try to force two pieces together that just don't fit? You can fight and struggle with them, tell yourself that yes indeed it will work, force "tab a" into "slot b" so many times that both "tab a" and "slot b" are afterwards rendered useless. You can ruin the whole damned thing just by insisting when it would be far better for yourself AND the puzzle just to let it go.
Persistence. It is one of my strong suits, and yet, like all things, it has this dark underbelly. Not knowing when to let things go has cost me big on many occasions, and yet, I have not quite learned this lesson. Getting there though.
I spent last year approaching a crossroad. I left a job mid-year where I loved my coworkers and was paid adequately, but was personally unchallenged at what I did (part of what I need to be happy on a job) and uncomfortable with some of the things happening at high ends of the company--things that I won't elaborate on, but what I will say is that nothing I have seen from them since then has eased my concerns there.
My gut feelings told me that the job I went to from there would not pan out. It paid more and would initially be challenging to me, but I could tell that my personality--positive, dynamic, and collaborative, would not work in a company that liked processes, knee-jerk reactionism, and negative micromanagement. My immediate manager was the worst example of management I have ever seen.
Now I need to add here that I have cut my teeth in warehouse environments and am no prude. I have seen and heard all manner of blue language and have a basic understanding that this environment is typically not the penthouse suite in the office tower downtown. In a warehouse, people are usually blue collar. They swear. They sweat. They talk openly of sex and drugs and rock and roll. That filter in place in office environments is missing in warehouses. Truthfully, somewhere in the middle is what personally suits me, but I'm not one to get too knotted up about someone dropping the f-bomb on the plant floor. It is real life, and I'm always cool with that.
But having said that, my view of management is that they should be respectful of the people who make it happen. They should lead by example. They should be inclusive and collaborative. Professional. Any of the above, please, and preferably ALL of it.
My manager was none of those things. She commonly referred to the people on the floor as "f**ktards", could not handle anyone questioning her authority on something, constantly changed the objectives (in the six months I spent there I never did learn what rabbit I was really supposed to chase), would shred anyone publicly who dare take something over her head, could not plan--but would throw us supervisors under the bus when things fell apart, hold me accountable to reports she refused to train me how to run, and had no people skills to speak of. She knew the system, was loyal to the company, and was brutally intelligent--these things I'll give her--but that this company would promote someone like that meant that someone like me just wasn't going to make it.
Outside of my professional life, my personal life was no less chaotic. My home was a literal and figurative mess that 50 hour work weeks left little time or energy to straighten out. My frustration levels with other members of my family who did not seem like they were carrying their fair share of the workload at home was at an all-time high.
Chaos at home followed by chaos on the job. NOTHING about my life was what I wanted it to be and none of it made any sense. Hey, you only get one spin on this little blue marble--and if life isn't everything you want it to be, YOU own that. Something had to give.
The "right" thing to do would have involved lining up another job, giving a two week notice, and making a smooth transition. I didn't do the "right" thing. December first of last year came around...their peak season, by the way, and I knew that if I gave two weeks not only would it be in the height of their peak season, but in the mean-time, I would have put in many, many more hours of work where I was going to be treated like garbage by this shrew of a manager and it would come to naught anyway. December might have rolled in like that--but I was determined I would not let a new year roll in the same.
So I just quit. Walked out. Sent her a text that read: "I quit. Find someone else to not train, not support, and set up to fail. It will not be me. Good luck."
I'm not that girl! I've NEVER done this on a job and I'm not proud of my actions here. And I'll go on record saying that if I owe anyone an apology or have caused a problem for anyone, I will apologize and try to make it right.
Quitting a job in an economy where one in ten can't find work is a ballsy thing to do. I'll admit, finding a new one hasn't been a cakewalk. I've had several interviews, but there is a lot of talent out there to compete against. I want the RIGHT job this time. One I love. One that loves me back.
In the meantime, I am using my time to get my home life, and all that it entails back on track. I'm taking the long, slow path back to myself. Trying to figure out who I am and what I like. What I want from my one spin on this little blue marble.
It is the single-most empowering thing I have ever done. Gonna get it right this time. My problem is not that I haven't been trying. My problem is one of persistence. I hung on way too long, trying to make the puzzle pieces work when they were just not meant to fit together.
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