Friday, April 27, 2012

Admitting Defeat

I don't like quitting. I don't like asking for help. I'm stubborn, and I like being able to do things on my own. I don't like to fail. But I have.

The new job didn't go well. I mean, I did well. They loved me there. I did decent work, apparently, and I learned quickly. However, the longer I worked there, the more I hated the place. No, that isn't normal. I've had a few jobs over the years, and I've never hated any of them as much as I did this one. It was making me physically ill to be there, and the mere thought of going back the next morning made me literally shake. So, I quit.

They had me on a three month trial period before they hired me on permanently. I made it nearly to the end of that. I quit on the Monday of the week they were going to offer the position to me. I couldn't take it anymore. The sad part is, if you asked me what about the job I didn't like, I'm not sure I could tell you. There wasn't any one, specific thing. There were parts of the job itself that I didn't particularly like, but none of them, individually, warranted the ire I had for that job. There was the fact that I had to get up at 5 AM. Actually, that was a bigger part of it than you might think. I am not a morning person. At all. Hate early morning with a passion. Also, I'm a night person. I love staying up late. Since quitting, I have regularly stayed up until 4 AM. Before getting that job, it wasn't uncommon for me to stay up until 2 or 3 AM. While I had the job, on days I had to work I couldn't stay up much past 9 PM. So, not only did I have to get up incredibly early, but my nights were robbed from me. I no longer had a life. It was merely working, then trying to find what little joy I could find in the scant hours I had until I had to be in bed. And then, there was the near constant injury to my hands and arms. A day didn't go by without at least a few cuts and bruises. And hardly a week went by that I didn't get one or more injuries that required bandages and at least a week's worth of healing. One time, all my injuries healed over the weekend, and *that Monday* I got four different blisters on three different fingers. Go ahead. Do the math on that. I'll wait.

So, yeah. Not sure it was any one thing. There was just so much I didn't like about that place, and it didn't have any redeeming qualities at all. Oh, remember what I said in an earlier post about opportunities to move around? Lies. And they didn't encourage me trying to learn things as much as I thought they would. I still don't have a good idea about what any of it did. Most of the people there are content with following instructions and not knowing what they're really doing. I don't like that. So, yeah, not just bad, but it was never going to improve.

I sort of went down the stream without a paddle, though. I am currently unemployed, as I didn't have a job lined up when I quit. I tried to get one, but I have the most horrible luck on such things. Though, I seem to be getting luckier than usual. It's not official, but I'm pretty sure I have a job at Wal-Mart. Or, I will very soon. As soon as the drug test gets back. So, I didn't have one when I left, but I should have one not much longer than two weeks after. Lucky me!

I moved back in with my parents. Had to. No job = no money = can't pay my share of the rent. But, as happy as I am that I don't have to go back to that job, it doesn't even bother me. Also, I've had time to focus on other things. I've been able to do things that are fulfilling and fun, instead of just existing. LawGambit and I have started streaming again, and I've got so many D&D ideas that need to be written down and worked out, it ain't funny.

So, here I am. Admitting defeat. It's a horrid taste in my mouth, but it's quickly being washed away. So, what do you say? Shall we get this blog back on track? No more boring/depressing RL stuff. Time for fun and exciting stuff! My next post will probably be either StarCraft related or D&D related. And from there, who knows? But it will be fun!