Friday, August 13, 2004

Well, the Fat Lady Sang and She's Way Off Key

Life's funny. Just when you think you have figured out the solution, you find out that it's too little too late, or that you were completely off base. Everyone's reality is different and at times like these, it makes me wonder how human beings have ever gotten along with another of their kind.

Today I've lost my job. The good news, this leaves me a lot more time for blogging. The bad news, at the end of the month, I will receive my final paycheck.

Today started out as just a normal Friday. I got up, took a shower, put on my brand new top that my mom sent me and pouted in traffic my whole way to work.

And then it turned out to be a great Friday. I was in Houston yesterday and did an event for one of my clients that, if I may say so myself was VERY successful. In fact, when I got into the office, the highest ranked field person for my client in Houston had sent my Dallas client contact an email singing my praises. And so I felt pretty good about myself.

The client had turned around and forwarded the email about me being the greatest person on Earth to everyone at the agency. And I was a little surprised when by 10:30 no one from my team had emailed me some warm fuzzy congrats.

At 11, I had a scheduled meeting with the president and I felt very good about it. Nervous, but very good about it. You see, in that meeting, I was going to tell the president why I'd felt out of sorts for the last month and how I could become a happy employee again.

And as I heartily launched into my "here's the solution to me being the happiest employee you've ever had," things quickly turned around. The president then launched into how my square peg in a round hole thing was getting old. That because I wasn't like the other drones that worked there and didn't follow protocols to a tee, I was seen as a renegade, one that made them nervous. I asked if I was not getting the results that were expected by the clients. I asked if I wasn't exceeding those results. She agreed that I was, but that I just was not a good fit for how they did business. Apparently, my training at larger, bigger, more successful firms was not what they needed at this small agency. Apparently my way of doing PR, seen by anyone I've mentioned it to as just thinking out of the box and being determined to get results no matter how dire the situation be.

And so just like that, I went from being some big wig's superstar to someone's rotted left overs. My desk was cleaned out in under three minutes (amazing how few things you accumulate in six months and 7 days), my key and parking pass were turned out and then I was left to move on with my life.

I'd like to say that I didn't sob all the way home, but of course that would be a lie and I'm not about to start lying on my blob (if I did that, it'd be a hell of a lot more interesting and entertaining).

And so now, here I am. I no longer have an excuse for the house being messy. This job, as much as I hated it was my alibi for not getting the laundry done, not getting the dishes in/out of the dishwasher, not getting the sheets changed every week and so many other boring tasks. Of course now, I won't be able to justify my lack of participation in the housework because of too much TV watching or whatever I may use as an excuse.

So besides that side fact, I'm actually ok. My nose is snot free, my tear ducts are empty and I'm ready to face the next challenge. The mean people of the world may have won this round, but in the end, I have eight more lives. Although those drunken nights in Spain when I was 18 probably used two or three of those, so let's just say I have four left and call it a day. But either way, mean people can't always have the final word. Although today, my bitchy VP actually did get the last word. She needed to get my key and parking pass from me as I mentioned earlier in this post. Well, my parking pass was in my car, so she followed me to the garage as I was loaded up with my stuff (and by loaded up I mean one plastic bag and my purse). Anyway, when I got to my car, I open the door pull out my parking pass and hand it to her. She just took it, turned around and walked away, never saying a word. Not a good luck, bye, NOTHING! Whatever happened to humanity?

So maybe this round they got the last word, but the next round, I won't shut up. I'll just keep talking and talking and talking and it'll be about really inappropriate stuff like graphic descriptions of my bowel movement so that they finally retreat in fear. And that way, by God, I will have had the last word.

BWAHAHA!

Love,

Catwoman

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