Damn You, Jiminy Cricket!
I'm pretty much fucked. I don't see any way around it, at this point. In an exercise in depressive insomnia, I couldn't get to sleep last Thursday night because of stress about my job. The end result was that I decided (after five hours of laying in bed stressing out, and two more hours playing video games while I tried to relax) that I would quit my job, that day. At the time, it seemed like a well-founded idea. I wasn't going to call my boss and say "Hey, I'm done here" or "Take this job and shove it," or anything similar. I went in to work and finished the job that I'd been told to do on Wednesday (well, more like requested) by one of my (::counts on his fingers::) seven or eight bosses (technically speaking, if you don't count the fact that everyone in the company is in actuality someone who could order me around, because I'm the newest hiree in the worst part of my company). I was informed, halfway through doing this, that the head boss had another job for me to do after I was done vacuuming the floor of a remodel. I would be moving boxes. Keep in mind the menial nature of this task (a monkey could do it. Seriously.) and then add in the fact that instead of directly telling me this in advance, one of my seemingly endless bosses told someone who told someone else to tell me to do it. After remaining silent for several moments, I replied with "Well, yeah, I was actually planning on quitting today, so I don't think that I'll do that." The people working with me were shocked, but, I suppose they would be. I hadn't given a two weeks notice (seriously, so they could give me two more weeks of working between ten and fifteen hours and then tell me that "I should be happy that I have a job, at all."??).
I have my reasons, though. Number one on the list of reasons is that my job has been making me more and more miserable, every day, for a year or less now. My body hurt, and the mere thought of waking up to spend another eight hours trudging around after a bunch of menial tasks (and expecting to feel like I accomplished something, and expected to feel blessed to have "a great opportunity.") made me grow more and more lazy, to the point that I was unable to accomplish the simplest of tasks like cleaning my room or do my laundry. Not out of any physical disability persay, but because my job had sucked all of the desire out of me. Simply put, I no longer cared about... anything. As a result my performance at work was starting to wane. In fact, it had gotten ridiculously bad, to the point where I wasn't actually working, so much as making it through the day, zombie style, letting work pile up instead of piling onto my work. When I thought about this, I realized that the odds were rather good that I was going to get fired. Now, bear in mind that I have this nasty habit of succumbing to moral dilemmas, and that's exactly what I had, here. I did respect the company I worked for. I might even say that I loved my job, at one point in time. So, naturally I couldn't justify continuing to work for a company when I knew that they were paying me for a job that I wasn't doing to the fullest of my ability (or, to put it simply, I couldn't justify being paid for doing practically nothing). I held myself accountable and, doing what I thought was the right thing, I informed my boss that I was quitting for those very reasons.
That, apparently, was not the right thing to do. The right thing to do (apparently) is to continue working at a less than satisfactory level until the bosses get their heads out of their asses and fire you, so that you can get unemployment and sponge off the government like a good American citizen... Which, for some reason... I dunno... maybe it's because I know that I'm able to work, and that I should have planned ahead, so I deserve to be out in the cold and jobless right now, despite the fact that it's seriously hurting my family (my mom, dad, and myself are now laid off or unemployed, although my dad does collect social security. My brother (who can't actually drive because of his two D.U.I.'s) has a job with full benefits. Irony, folks. Irony.) .... I feel like this whole situation is entirely perverted, and proof that capitalism is not a golden realm of possibility.
Once again, I have no idea where I stand. I'm floundering... lost. I just need a job to get me through the next few months, but, thinking about it now, every employer is going to look at my last job and wonder "Why'd he quit?" and when I tell them, they're going to say "What a fucking idiot" unless I refuse to tell them (which is apparently my right) at which time they'll either A) call my old job and hear from them how I'm a fucking douchebag or B) simply hire someone else on the sole basis of me not jumping through the right hoops... So... yeah... I'm frustrated, my parents are pissed at me, my friends are worried about me, and, as far as I can tell, my eleven year old self who predicted that I'd be either a lawyer, the president, or a bum at the age of 35 is looking to be prophetic.
I wish I didn't have a conscience. Damn you, Jiminy Cricket.
As an aside, I had a dream about dying, last night... Not me dying, but more like the possibility of death, and what it meant... and... for some reason I.. uh.. "felt God." and it shook me up a bit (literally, I remember envisioning the act of death in the dream and the entire world shook and I realized that the very notion of doing good was a concept that embraced and supported the idea of an omnipotent, good being. It was pretty wild, but it doesn't mean I've suddenly decided to go to church. My views remain the same: God is Everything, which is Nothing, which means it's all up to Me to do what's Right, because I'm God, and So Are You, and So Is That Rock Over There Under That Bird Pooping On It). So... if you you believe in that sorta thing... feel free to pray for me. I've a feeling that I might need some help, and soon (whether it's mental, physical, or financial, you be the judge). Sionara.
I have my reasons, though. Number one on the list of reasons is that my job has been making me more and more miserable, every day, for a year or less now. My body hurt, and the mere thought of waking up to spend another eight hours trudging around after a bunch of menial tasks (and expecting to feel like I accomplished something, and expected to feel blessed to have "a great opportunity.") made me grow more and more lazy, to the point that I was unable to accomplish the simplest of tasks like cleaning my room or do my laundry. Not out of any physical disability persay, but because my job had sucked all of the desire out of me. Simply put, I no longer cared about... anything. As a result my performance at work was starting to wane. In fact, it had gotten ridiculously bad, to the point where I wasn't actually working, so much as making it through the day, zombie style, letting work pile up instead of piling onto my work. When I thought about this, I realized that the odds were rather good that I was going to get fired. Now, bear in mind that I have this nasty habit of succumbing to moral dilemmas, and that's exactly what I had, here. I did respect the company I worked for. I might even say that I loved my job, at one point in time. So, naturally I couldn't justify continuing to work for a company when I knew that they were paying me for a job that I wasn't doing to the fullest of my ability (or, to put it simply, I couldn't justify being paid for doing practically nothing). I held myself accountable and, doing what I thought was the right thing, I informed my boss that I was quitting for those very reasons.
That, apparently, was not the right thing to do. The right thing to do (apparently) is to continue working at a less than satisfactory level until the bosses get their heads out of their asses and fire you, so that you can get unemployment and sponge off the government like a good American citizen... Which, for some reason... I dunno... maybe it's because I know that I'm able to work, and that I should have planned ahead, so I deserve to be out in the cold and jobless right now, despite the fact that it's seriously hurting my family (my mom, dad, and myself are now laid off or unemployed, although my dad does collect social security. My brother (who can't actually drive because of his two D.U.I.'s) has a job with full benefits. Irony, folks. Irony.) .... I feel like this whole situation is entirely perverted, and proof that capitalism is not a golden realm of possibility.
Once again, I have no idea where I stand. I'm floundering... lost. I just need a job to get me through the next few months, but, thinking about it now, every employer is going to look at my last job and wonder "Why'd he quit?" and when I tell them, they're going to say "What a fucking idiot" unless I refuse to tell them (which is apparently my right) at which time they'll either A) call my old job and hear from them how I'm a fucking douchebag or B) simply hire someone else on the sole basis of me not jumping through the right hoops... So... yeah... I'm frustrated, my parents are pissed at me, my friends are worried about me, and, as far as I can tell, my eleven year old self who predicted that I'd be either a lawyer, the president, or a bum at the age of 35 is looking to be prophetic.
I wish I didn't have a conscience. Damn you, Jiminy Cricket.
As an aside, I had a dream about dying, last night... Not me dying, but more like the possibility of death, and what it meant... and... for some reason I.. uh.. "felt God." and it shook me up a bit (literally, I remember envisioning the act of death in the dream and the entire world shook and I realized that the very notion of doing good was a concept that embraced and supported the idea of an omnipotent, good being. It was pretty wild, but it doesn't mean I've suddenly decided to go to church. My views remain the same: God is Everything, which is Nothing, which means it's all up to Me to do what's Right, because I'm God, and So Are You, and So Is That Rock Over There Under That Bird Pooping On It). So... if you you believe in that sorta thing... feel free to pray for me. I've a feeling that I might need some help, and soon (whether it's mental, physical, or financial, you be the judge). Sionara.