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tiny_ninjaI gave my notice to Starbucks on Friday.
A couple weeks ago, I interviewed for a front office secretary position at an elementary school less than ten minutes from my house. It's Gabby's sister school, so I already know the principal, and sent her an email telling her I'd applied. I honestly thought I'd rambled too much in the interview, and didn't feel confident in getting the position.
And I didn't. Mrs. Regan's rejection call was probably the nicest, kindest "no" I'd ever received, and I didn't even cry afterward. (Anxiety means I cry and panic over this shit all the fucking time. If I could rip my flight or fight response out of my body, I fucking would.) She said she thinks I'd be a great addition to their team and she really wants me there, and I should resubmit my application for an Ed Tech position. They work in tandem with teachers, helping students in small groups and overseeing classrooms while teachers are in meetings/on break/whatever.
So I did.
This was on a Friday. Last Tuesday, Mrs. Regan calls me and offers me a position as a library Ed Tech. I'd be working between my daughter's school and the one I originally applied at. I'd help kids check out books and lead story times. I would get to work with books full-time. As a reader. As a writer. Summers and holidays off. Working when my kids are in school.
Y'all. That's when I cried.
I don't care that it's a pay cut. The insurance is better, the retirement is better, I won't have be up at 3 fucking AM to get work, and did I mention not dealing with the current bullshit in my store?
No more being told to fuck off and being called names.
No threatening to be robbed when I told a guy he can't panhandle in front of the doors.
No telling another guy he can't use the baby changing table to roll joints.
No cleaning bathrooms or scrubbing drains.
In the words of my therapist, "Fucking BOOKS, Amie!!!"
Of course, I'm still dealing with the guilt of leaving a job I've held for 16 years. I love my team, and this decision has nothing to do with them. I've stayed as long as I have because I do love them and I want to be there to support them, but I can't keep rushing into a burning building day after day and realizing my fire extinguisher isn't enough to put out the flames. I no longer have a work-life balance with this job; I've been doing the work of two or three baristas every time I'm there. Physically, I can't sustain this.
I know there's a light at the end of the tunnel now. After September 9, I am free. I'm sure this new job will come with other challenges, all jobs do, but I'm ready to do something new, even if it scares me. I go in on Tuesday to start training, even though I won't be full time until mid-September.
Also, my birthday is on September 10, and the first thing I'm going to do is get my nails done. With a manicure I won't have to take off when my vacation ends. I might cry at that, too.
A couple weeks ago, I interviewed for a front office secretary position at an elementary school less than ten minutes from my house. It's Gabby's sister school, so I already know the principal, and sent her an email telling her I'd applied. I honestly thought I'd rambled too much in the interview, and didn't feel confident in getting the position.
And I didn't. Mrs. Regan's rejection call was probably the nicest, kindest "no" I'd ever received, and I didn't even cry afterward. (Anxiety means I cry and panic over this shit all the fucking time. If I could rip my flight or fight response out of my body, I fucking would.) She said she thinks I'd be a great addition to their team and she really wants me there, and I should resubmit my application for an Ed Tech position. They work in tandem with teachers, helping students in small groups and overseeing classrooms while teachers are in meetings/on break/whatever.
So I did.
This was on a Friday. Last Tuesday, Mrs. Regan calls me and offers me a position as a library Ed Tech. I'd be working between my daughter's school and the one I originally applied at. I'd help kids check out books and lead story times. I would get to work with books full-time. As a reader. As a writer. Summers and holidays off. Working when my kids are in school.
Y'all. That's when I cried.
I don't care that it's a pay cut. The insurance is better, the retirement is better, I won't have be up at 3 fucking AM to get work, and did I mention not dealing with the current bullshit in my store?
No more being told to fuck off and being called names.
No threatening to be robbed when I told a guy he can't panhandle in front of the doors.
No telling another guy he can't use the baby changing table to roll joints.
No cleaning bathrooms or scrubbing drains.
In the words of my therapist, "Fucking BOOKS, Amie!!!"
Of course, I'm still dealing with the guilt of leaving a job I've held for 16 years. I love my team, and this decision has nothing to do with them. I've stayed as long as I have because I do love them and I want to be there to support them, but I can't keep rushing into a burning building day after day and realizing my fire extinguisher isn't enough to put out the flames. I no longer have a work-life balance with this job; I've been doing the work of two or three baristas every time I'm there. Physically, I can't sustain this.
I know there's a light at the end of the tunnel now. After September 9, I am free. I'm sure this new job will come with other challenges, all jobs do, but I'm ready to do something new, even if it scares me. I go in on Tuesday to start training, even though I won't be full time until mid-September.
Also, my birthday is on September 10, and the first thing I'm going to do is get my nails done. With a manicure I won't have to take off when my vacation ends. I might cry at that, too.
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