| Upon arriving Friday morning, a feeling of dread settled over me. I was tired from all the holiday antics, fireworks in the yard next door, and late night pool swimming with the Muckheads. I knew my tiredness was clouding my thinking. But the fact remained...I didn't want to come to work. "This was easy," I thought. "My decision is made. Now the hard part is picking the right moment to tell the boss."
Paula wasn't going to be in the office all day so I was on my own. One of the inspectors was there to back me up on the phones and do the counter work so I wasn't alone. And the boss was there, too. The phone didn't ring much. There was one report that I had to get out but the rest of the day was pretty much a blank except for my troubling thoughts. I spent the day writing and plotting when I would confront the boss. This working business was awful. You gotta get up early. You gotta jump in the shower first thing. You gotta get down some breakfast that you're really not hungry enough for anyway. You gotta have nice looking clothes and shoes. You gotta be on time. You gotta be cooped up behind walls instead of out there in the sunshine, or in a comfy spot watching the rain. Have you noticed that usually the secretaries don't get the windows? And, most importantly, you gotta want to be there. There are too many people in too many jobs that they don't want to be at. I was one of them. I knew it would be hard to acclimate myself to the working mode again. I had faced this undauntingly. I took it on eagerly. I was surprised at how quickly I crumbled. I had wanted to know if my new found maturity and wisdom would get me to feeling more comfortable in an office situation. I did find that out. Yes, it did. But it also reaffirmed to me that I didn't like working in an office anymore. I should have listened to that all-knowing voice that had been there in the back of my head all this time. The boss came in and sat down at Paula's desk. I don't know if Paula had said something to him or not. I suspected he knew I was waning. There was something about his demeanor when we passed each other in the office a couple of times. He wasn't as open. So, when he sat down in Paula's chair, I felt this was reckoning time. Sure enough, after a few pleasantries, he came out and asked me how things were working out. This was as good a time as any to lay the truth on him. "Well, I have to admit that it has been hard and I've come to the conclusion that I jumped into fulltime work too fast." Again, the same nonreaction that Paula had had. I had to remember that they had a history of temps walking in and out on them. I really liked the boss. I felt terribly bad having to tell him that I needed to go. While I was explaining to him how bad I felt about walking out on a job, a few pin pricks of tears filled my eyes. He probably noticed but didn't humiliate me more with reaching for a Kleenex and offering me one. I ended by saying that I needed to reevaluate what I wanted to do. He stood up and asked me to think about how much notice I would be able to give them. He mentioned that two weeks would be helpful to them. I told him that I would call the temp agency and ask them how much time they needed me to give. He agreed and told me to let him know. Right away I called the agency. After explaining the situation again to them, they told me that I had to give a week's notice. I asked if they would be able to fill the position within a week. "We can't guarentee that but we will be trying." And that was that. I put down the phone feeling lighter already. Surely I could last through another week. It coudn't be that bad, could it? (To be continued...) |