My prayers have been answered: the ebb and flow of my line of work is in motion again. A position is opening up in another area of my department – ironically enough – my 1st love, the one part of this job that sucked me into this career. It’s a specialized department; as of right now, I’m what’s referred to as a “generalist” – jack of all trades, master of none.
This new job would require me to learn a bunch of new skills and be normal people hours – something I have not experienced in my career thus far. I always chase the sun, it seems, and these skills I haven’t exercised since my 300 level college class a decade ago. I’m super excited. Beyond excited. While it’s not a sure thing I get the gig, I managed to hear about the job before there was an email sent about it, which is odd for me: I’m not connected in the gossip chain. I spoke with the supervisor of the department who commented that he would love to bring me on board. So far, he’s kept me abreast of where the position is in the HR dance. Rumor has it that next week it will be posted. I’m going nuts waiting.
Part of this change is because I officially hate where I’m at now.
I figured it out over a lunch outing with my co-workers: my shift is now 100% female. When I was an intern, I worked in a place where it was all female. And it sucked. Everyone walked around with knives in their back. It was catty. People undermined each other. I know part of it is me: I love men. I’ve always been one of the guys. I would much rather be the only girl than one of the girls. I don’t fit in most of the time (okay, all the time) with groups of girls. There are exceptions to that rule, of course, but they are far and few between.
With our new supervisor and the new people coming aboard, I think they’re wonderful. They’re smart. They’re hard working, they know when to have fun and when to work. Much like my bouncer experience at church, nothing has been said or done to me that would cause me to think that I’ve purposely been excluded. Well, perhaps the cellphone thing. Everyone has everyone else’s phone number. And they text a lot at work when someone is off for the day. Or on another department. I don’t have anyone’s number. I wasn’t asked. I didn’t ask. Meh. When I’m not at work, I don’t want to know what’s going on at work. As The General said when I 1st met him (haha, at work) he said, “I like to keep my work life and my life life separate.” Well, he married a co-worker, but we stayed professional at work. Most people didn’t know we were married until after a few months when someone would overhear us talking about a grocery list.
It doesn’t help matters that my angst is now starting to manifest itself outwardly. I was a bitch the other night to anyone who dared cross my path. My supervisor said she didn’t get any phone calls from where I was working (this department loves to call the supervisor with, “They’re not working fast enough. They’re not playing nice.” ) I felt terrible. I hate being the person that I’ve become. The past year has beat me into the ground. And the worst part is that I let it beat me. I now am fearing I won’t get this position because I have had such an awful attitude and I’m an overall bitch. Maybe I’m just hard on myself. But in my profession, people talk. As I said at lunch with the group: “It’s a [my place of work]. If you have a secret you don’t want anyone to know, tell no one.” My profession makes hair dressers look like saints compared to how we gossip.
Such is life.
I need a change and certainly hope this is the ticket; simple because I can’t keep doing what I’m doing. It’s not working. It’s actually getting harder. And not being one of the cool kids isn’t helping matters.