Do you want me to set the building on fire? That would eliminate any chance of you returning to work there.... as "there" would no longer exist....
But I know the feeling. Yeah... that place gets under your freaking skin. I was drug back to the Barnes & Noble the other day and felt all kinds of sadness/regret/longing/etc just looking at that building. For the first year or so, I would seriously consider coming back- even trying to rationalize a way I could fit working there into my life along with the 40 hours I put in at GoDaddy each week. It's hard. Any change is hard. I've found avoidance helps, lol. Just physically removing myself from the whole damn Ahwatukee area is a good cleansing of the soul.
I guess I got lucky. I mean, for a while, I didn't know how this job and I would suit each other. At the moment, I'm up to my eyeballs in stress from my recent promotions, but I wouldn't have it any other way. I love my job. You just need to find the same thing. There's something out there... you cant go back.
That's what it finally took for me- the realization that even if I did go back, the life I wanted back didn't exist. Slowly but surely, all of my friends left. Management changed. The new hires get younger and younger. Life goes on, and all that crap. Things change.
And if none of that helped.... again, there's always fire.
Ashley, thank you. Reading your words was almost like seeing a light at the end of the tunnel.
I had almost an epiphany myself when I was at the theatre for our usual Thursday night hookah last week. I went in with Ivan, who went upstairs right away cause they dropped a print (oops) and I stuck around in the lobby for a couple of minutes. I've been in there many times since I left, and had numerous snide comments made about my presence, but was left pretty much alone this time. There wasn't anyone to talk with, and I got bored after a very short while of sitting on the bench in the lobby. So I got up and left. I walked around the back of the building, the front of the mall, back and forth for about 30 minutes. I was honestly waiting for security to haul me off, but they didn't seem too concerned (big shock).
So at some point, Raul showed up and we sat down at Coffee Society. I sat with my back to the theatre, and I just felt.... pissed off. I couldn't figure out why. I sat there fuming, and it was just very strange. I came to the realization a couple days later that there was nothing at AMC for me anymore. It's exactly what you said about how what used to be there was gone. How I left that place is nothing close to what it is now. But instead of feeling pissed off like I was on Thursday, I was at peace with it. I accepted it, and I feel like AMC's dead weight can't hold me back anymore. As corny as it sounds, I feel free from what I left behind. Only took me six months. =)
And fire is definitely fun. But the building is pretty much burning down on it's own; no need for us to help it along.
Again, thank you. You've helped more than you can possibly know.
But I know the feeling. Yeah... that place gets under your freaking skin. I was drug back to the Barnes & Noble the other day and felt all kinds of sadness/regret/longing/etc just looking at that building. For the first year or so, I would seriously consider coming back- even trying to rationalize a way I could fit working there into my life along with the 40 hours I put in at GoDaddy each week. It's hard. Any change is hard. I've found avoidance helps, lol. Just physically removing myself from the whole damn Ahwatukee area is a good cleansing of the soul.
I guess I got lucky. I mean, for a while, I didn't know how this job and I would suit each other. At the moment, I'm up to my eyeballs in stress from my recent promotions, but I wouldn't have it any other way. I love my job. You just need to find the same thing. There's something out there... you cant go back.
That's what it finally took for me- the realization that even if I did go back, the life I wanted back didn't exist. Slowly but surely, all of my friends left. Management changed. The new hires get younger and younger. Life goes on, and all that crap. Things change.
And if none of that helped.... again, there's always fire.
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Ashley, thank you. Reading your words was almost like seeing a light at the end of the tunnel.
I had almost an epiphany myself when I was at the theatre for our usual Thursday night hookah last week. I went in with Ivan, who went upstairs right away cause they dropped a print (oops) and I stuck around in the lobby for a couple of minutes. I've been in there many times since I left, and had numerous snide comments made about my presence, but was left pretty much alone this time. There wasn't anyone to talk with, and I got bored after a very short while of sitting on the bench in the lobby. So I got up and left. I walked around the back of the building, the front of the mall, back and forth for about 30 minutes. I was honestly waiting for security to haul me off, but they didn't seem too concerned (big shock).
So at some point, Raul showed up and we sat down at Coffee Society. I sat with my back to the theatre, and I just felt.... pissed off. I couldn't figure out why. I sat there fuming, and it was just very strange. I came to the realization a couple days later that there was nothing at AMC for me anymore. It's exactly what you said about how what used to be there was gone. How I left that place is nothing close to what it is now. But instead of feeling pissed off like I was on Thursday, I was at peace with it. I accepted it, and I feel like AMC's dead weight can't hold me back anymore. As corny as it sounds, I feel free from what I left behind. Only took me six months. =)
And fire is definitely fun. But the building is pretty much burning down on it's own; no need for us to help it along.
Again, thank you. You've helped more than you can possibly know.
Reply
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