Kit's Bitchin' Kitchen: Death of Record Bitch
So I got canned.
I was fired, dismissed, sacked, chucked, possibly also laid off. My record store is on the verge of closing down, another casualty of this ridiculous war and the recession in which it has left us. The price of gas is rising so the price of homes are rising and the price of food is rising and, here in Hawaii, everyone is struggling so hard just to make ends meet, most of them can't even think of going to buy music or books. The things that make us a culture and not just a bunch of people surviving, the music and the films and the books and the comics, the things my store provides to the island, are now being put aside and considered unnecessary in the face of more practical things.
They are keeping a skeleton crew until they figure out if they have to close. I did not make the cut.
My boss was on the verge of tears when he took me back in his grubby little office to talk to me about it, to assure me I hadn't done anything wrong, and that he was sorry. He had only just become aware that I'm losing my home at the end of this month and have not, as yet, found a new one. I let him vent about business while I squeezed back tears of shock and sadness, trying to adjust to the fact that the people who had been my surrogate family for a year and a half voted me off the island.
Being the only full-time employee that was being let go (a slew of others were laid off as well, but they all had other jobs to fall back on), I succumbed to a brief moment of panic, thinking that if there was a worse time for this to come, I can't quite picture it. Everyone knew, and they all looked at me when I came out to my register. So I grinned and said, "Ah, I hated all you bitches anyway."
Everyone suddenly wanted to give me stuff. My boss told me I could go home if I wanted to, it being my last day, and I'd get paid for the full day. One coworker tried to give me her overtime pay, which amounted to a hundred and twenty-five coconuts. To my shock, I discovered principles that did not allow me to take it. Seeing this, another coworker took out his wallet and started trying to give me the four bucks that was in it. My other boss saw the movies and records I'd had on hold to buy later and told me to just take them, no charge, which amounted to about seventy, eighty bucks. I should get fired every week.
And to my shock, I feel fine. Dad said I could mope for twenty-four hours. That was my time to be pissed and sad and to lay around like a lump. After that, it was time to pick up and move on.
So what comes next? I am completely open right now. Depending on my mediocre cartoon for support will do me no good at all, as it's only really brought me enough money to afford to keep the CafePress store open. My first inclinations are to chase brand new opportunities like lion trainer, ninja, or pole dancer.
I've been a barista, a day care teacher, a floral designer and a record store bitch. Maybe this time I want something entirely different. Dolphin tank cleaner at Sea Life Park. Lazy security guard. Surfboard pinup artist. Fisherman. Apprentice pirate. Nude model. Tiki architect. Blues singer with a minor in vintage jazz vocal.
To be honest, I could get back into day care and like it. I realized that working at the store had me in exile, crouched under those buzzing florescent lights and providing nothing useful for mankind. I hid away and bagged on mean or dumb customers and drew cartoons at the register and grew impatient and petty and bitter for no reason. I saw it happening a few months ago, and realized I was becoming a person I didn't like, but I couldn't seem to make the change. Attitude change is a challenge without some atmosphere change to back it up.
In the past two days, since being laid off and thereby freed from the store, I've been feeling pretty great. I don't feel resentful or bitter, I feel like I've just shaken that off like I ought to, I feel happy, optimistic, creative, calm. I'm friggin' Snow White. The evil stepmother of my career had tried to have me killed and run out of the castle, and I'm just chillin', knowing that I'll run into seven little men, and seven is a lucky number.
Maybe things won't work out. They have every opportunity not to -- practically speaking, my circumstances are pretty cruddy right now. I may not find a place to live, I may take too long to find a job and wind up completely broke, but even if I do, I get the impression I'll wind up being okay. How can I not? That's my only option.
Yikes. This wound up positively heartwarming. Let's close here and I'll just make another post for your toon so you can all skip this part. ;)
I was fired, dismissed, sacked, chucked, possibly also laid off. My record store is on the verge of closing down, another casualty of this ridiculous war and the recession in which it has left us. The price of gas is rising so the price of homes are rising and the price of food is rising and, here in Hawaii, everyone is struggling so hard just to make ends meet, most of them can't even think of going to buy music or books. The things that make us a culture and not just a bunch of people surviving, the music and the films and the books and the comics, the things my store provides to the island, are now being put aside and considered unnecessary in the face of more practical things.
They are keeping a skeleton crew until they figure out if they have to close. I did not make the cut.
My boss was on the verge of tears when he took me back in his grubby little office to talk to me about it, to assure me I hadn't done anything wrong, and that he was sorry. He had only just become aware that I'm losing my home at the end of this month and have not, as yet, found a new one. I let him vent about business while I squeezed back tears of shock and sadness, trying to adjust to the fact that the people who had been my surrogate family for a year and a half voted me off the island.
Being the only full-time employee that was being let go (a slew of others were laid off as well, but they all had other jobs to fall back on), I succumbed to a brief moment of panic, thinking that if there was a worse time for this to come, I can't quite picture it. Everyone knew, and they all looked at me when I came out to my register. So I grinned and said, "Ah, I hated all you bitches anyway."
Everyone suddenly wanted to give me stuff. My boss told me I could go home if I wanted to, it being my last day, and I'd get paid for the full day. One coworker tried to give me her overtime pay, which amounted to a hundred and twenty-five coconuts. To my shock, I discovered principles that did not allow me to take it. Seeing this, another coworker took out his wallet and started trying to give me the four bucks that was in it. My other boss saw the movies and records I'd had on hold to buy later and told me to just take them, no charge, which amounted to about seventy, eighty bucks. I should get fired every week.
And to my shock, I feel fine. Dad said I could mope for twenty-four hours. That was my time to be pissed and sad and to lay around like a lump. After that, it was time to pick up and move on.
So what comes next? I am completely open right now. Depending on my mediocre cartoon for support will do me no good at all, as it's only really brought me enough money to afford to keep the CafePress store open. My first inclinations are to chase brand new opportunities like lion trainer, ninja, or pole dancer.
I've been a barista, a day care teacher, a floral designer and a record store bitch. Maybe this time I want something entirely different. Dolphin tank cleaner at Sea Life Park. Lazy security guard. Surfboard pinup artist. Fisherman. Apprentice pirate. Nude model. Tiki architect. Blues singer with a minor in vintage jazz vocal.
To be honest, I could get back into day care and like it. I realized that working at the store had me in exile, crouched under those buzzing florescent lights and providing nothing useful for mankind. I hid away and bagged on mean or dumb customers and drew cartoons at the register and grew impatient and petty and bitter for no reason. I saw it happening a few months ago, and realized I was becoming a person I didn't like, but I couldn't seem to make the change. Attitude change is a challenge without some atmosphere change to back it up.
In the past two days, since being laid off and thereby freed from the store, I've been feeling pretty great. I don't feel resentful or bitter, I feel like I've just shaken that off like I ought to, I feel happy, optimistic, creative, calm. I'm friggin' Snow White. The evil stepmother of my career had tried to have me killed and run out of the castle, and I'm just chillin', knowing that I'll run into seven little men, and seven is a lucky number.
Maybe things won't work out. They have every opportunity not to -- practically speaking, my circumstances are pretty cruddy right now. I may not find a place to live, I may take too long to find a job and wind up completely broke, but even if I do, I get the impression I'll wind up being okay. How can I not? That's my only option.
Yikes. This wound up positively heartwarming. Let's close here and I'll just make another post for your toon so you can all skip this part. ;)