previous // August 10, 2007
// 9:38 a.m. // next
I've been thinking for most of the week how I'd write this Friday's entry and really, sitting here with the "add an entry" window open, I have no clue. A lot of it stems from the fact that I'm still trying to wrap my head around all that's happened and how I should move forward.
I took it upon myself to look up the stages of grief this morning prior to writin this entry. I've gone through all five in rapid succession and now I'm revisiting each one in intimate detail, which doesn't spell good times for Yours Truly. Right now I'm vacillating between denial and anger, with a little bit of depression (the other two stages being bargaining and acceptance; I don't think I've hit on bargaining at all but who knows).
I went in to work on Tuesday, opened the store, and did all I had to do. Shorty came in since a new hire was starting that day. She gave me accessories to do up front and was going to wait to break down shipment until the back room was less cluttered with people. She had told me that she wanted to chat with me about a recent conversation she'd had with our DM about me when another co-worker got there, so I waited and when the time came, went in back and sat down with Shorty.
Basically, the DM said let me go, so that's what Shorty did. It wasn't for lack of trying, though. Shorty fought the DM tooth and nail to keep me there. Shorty had seen all the changes I'd been going thorugh to try to be better than I had. She knew how much my attitude was changing and how much I was trying to be a team player and do what's right. The DM didn't care. All she saw was after I'd been written up for sitting on a counter and basically being a lazy jackass, the day she came in for a surprise visit I was taking a 2-second breather on the counter. Never mind all the stuff I'd done prior to that. That was grounds for letting me go.
Shorty and I had a tearful good-bye. She's willing to support me however she can in getting another job. She's proud of the way I've tried to turn things around for myself there. She didn't want to do it. And I'd ironically received a card from corporate (a generic mailing they send automatically) congratulating me on my first year with the company.
I, of course, texted MB right away, feeling that my pseudo-husband should know. I then went to the costume shop owner I know and told her that I am readily available to work in any of her stores starting immediately. She's working on putting me into the schedules of various places. Her daughters, Midgets 1 and 2, know. I told Pixie, who returned to work on my last day and I haven't seen in over a month (my shift ended at 2, she didn't come in until 6).
The only people that don't know are my parents and Mom C. I don't know how to tell them. I'm embarrassed. They're going to judge and make me feel even more guilty than I already do. When I told L the other night, she suggested I just wait and tell my parents that I left the store for a full-time job and use my hours at the costume shop as a cover. That I can do. It's Mom C, still, that I have to contend with. She won't let it alone. All I want from her is what I got from MB: "I'm sorry. It's shitty, but you'll get through this. I am here for you." That's all.
I was fired on Tuesday. It's been 3 days. I feel like shit, but I've been applying my little butt off to anything remotely eye-catching that's full time. I'm still paying off the Florida trip, only $300 to go, more or less. I'm making my final payment on my Target card this weekend. I cancelled two subscriptions I have yesterday to save a little dough and will cancel another this weekend. I was in the preliminary stages of planning a trip to the State Fair to see Linkin Park but that's out now (Mikey, I'm soooooo sorry I won't be basking in your delicious glory, but if you'll be so kind as to remember the Capital Region in the very near future you'll be making this fan's depression a little less. Thanks, and love ya!).
I will get through this. This isn't catastrophic. I will be okay. School starts up in a few weeks, so I'll be able to start squirrelling money away again. Until then, call me Ms. Scrooge.
Cautiously optimistic,
Thanks for reading,
Ter
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