Life

A First Time For Everything

I hate “talking it out” when I’m upset. However, it can be extremely therapeutic to write about things that I don’t want to talk about…especially in the heat of the moment. With that in mind, today is a perfect day to blog, because something very shitty has just happened to me:
I got fired from my job today. Yep, today was definitely a new experience. And no, I do NOT want to talk about it. I will, however, write it out.

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Which of my four (yes, four) jobs did I get fired from, you might ask? That’s a GREAT QUESTION. My employment as a barista at *Name of Law Office* was terminated because of my attendance – and I don’t blame them. To refresh your memory, I was to be at the office from 7am-10am Monday through Friday, and serve handmade espresso beverages to the firm’s lawyers, clients, partners, legal assistants, receptionists, etc. There were countless times — and I truly can’t count all of them — that I was late, called in sick, or just didn’t fucking wake up to my alarm. The latter was usually the case, and it was the case this morning.

Last night I laid out my clothes for the morning, and got in bed around midnight — that should have given me more than 6 hours of sleep before I had to get up at 6:30 and be to the office by 7. But this morning I did not wake up at 6:30. I did not wake up at 7. I woke up at 8:45. When I got on my computer to send off the email that I had overslept (yet again), I received a notification of my own:

“I need to meet with you this morning. This is the second time this week that you have been late without notifying me. This is unacceptable.”

At that point I pretty much accepted the fact that I was about to be fired. The least I could do was to try not to look like a pile of stinking shit when I went into the office for my firing, so I put on some tights, a dress, my new boots, and a little bit of makeup. You know, to salvage my dignity.

As I walked the ten blocks to the office I just kept trying to calm my nerves and keep my head held high. I decided that if for some reason I was given a warning or a second chance, I would still be leaving this job today. While my schedule at the office sounded really appealing at first, it turned out to be a gigantic waste of time and energy. Here’s why:

  • It’s painfully slow. On average, I think I serve around 20 drinks in three hours. The boredom can really eat away at a person. Sure, I was allowed to have my computer behind the bar, but there were many mornings when even the Internet couldn’t keep me entertained. Most days I would nod off back there.
  • The job did very little for me, except give me a decent hourly rate and a Christmas bonus. Other than that, it has only been holding me back. It became a crutch that allowed me to live downtown and pay my bills, but that is all. I want a job that challenges me and gives me an opportunity to learn and develop my skills, not one in which I am just a maker of coffee and cleaner of surfaces.
  • It’s degrading. There’s something about being ordered around by rich white people that just never sat well with me. I realize that everyone is grumpy in the morning, and no one wants to put any effort into the way they order coffee, but there are simple things everyone can do to make sure they aren’t being an asshole. Just sayin.
  • I was basically the whipped cream of the office. An unimportant member of the firm’s staff, I had very little tasks. There was little-to-no oversight, no teamwork, and I had no coworkers.  The only people I interacted with are the people I was serving, which strangely, were employed by the same company as I was.
  • There was no greater goal for me – it’s all about the day-to-day duties. I come in, I clean the machine, I serve coffee, I sit on my computer for three hours, I clean up, I leave. Repeat.

The firing was friendly (as friendly as a firing can be) and professional; human resources were prompt in giving me my last check on my way out. The head of human resources reassured me that my termination would not reflect poorly on my step dad Tim. She and some guy who was sitting in on my firing told me they think I have too many jobs. They are correct.

I’ve been thinking about my employment (and my termination) a lot today, and I theorized that maybe I jeopardized my own employment subconsciously. Obviously, my first thoughts went to a recent episode of “GIRLS” in which Hannah gets fired on purpose. In my own passive aggressive way, I think I may have been striving for the same result in an attempt to salvage my creative goals. Hannah and I could have just quit our stupid jobs and saved ourselves the embarrassment, but that’s just not what has occurred here.

The whole thing feels strangely like a death, but I’m also relieved that I never have to go back to that meaningless job again.The scary part is, I now have to find a new way to make money. After volleyball season ends in May, I will no longer be getting paid to coach. And Lord knows I can’t survive off my part time work at The Duck Store.

I am terrified, but it’s somehow reassuring to know that I have no choice but to get my shit together and find a job that is more than just a paycheck. I am now looking for work that feeds my soul. Maybe this was the kick in the pants that I needed.

 

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