The Bizarreness That Was My Last Job

It’s not hard to explain what I went through in my last position and why I chose to quit it. Simply put: people be crazy. It started out sweet and simple. I was very excited because I had a position so close to home, it involved working with children, everyone seemed so nice and I got involved in the community. I decided it was time to immerse myself in my work and do the very best I could so that this could be my soul-mate for a job.

My manager seemed sweet and easy to talk to. There was a girl, we’ll call her Steph, who was very open and friendly. She had a child and was near my age so we had a lot in common. There was another lady who was nice but who I didn’t talk to much (she ran things in the other marketing club, and I ran the kid’s club), and then there was a woman who also seemed very open and fun (she was the managers administrative assistant). This lady was church-going, loud and a gossipy but fun. Together, we were the marketing department and from the start I was told everyone in the building wished they were us. I later noticed that hardly anyone volunteered for community events; funny since they all wanted to be us.

Any who, tiny, stupid things began to happen. Someone mentioned to my manager that my pants were not appropriate for work. Now, if you know me, you know I don’t wear inappropriate clothing. To think of it makes me laugh. It so happened that they didn’t cover my knee by about an inch. Then I was talked to about doing work at my desk with my headphones on. Which I was later told was okay by my manager but that I should try to keep it at a minimum, again because everyone was jealous of our department. Finally I was talked to about a Facebook post I wrote about my job (how I loved it). She said to take it down; again, people are jealous. At this point I began to vent my frustration to Steph, and she would say she knew who was complaining about me… a girl who sat at a desk just through our department doors. Apparently she had applied for my job too, and look who got it. So from here on out, whenever I was tattled on I assumed it was her. I had been “in trouble” more in this position than I have ever been in my years of school and work combined. It was really getting to me because I hadn’t experienced this level of behavior before. It was very small-town. Whispers. Smirks. Glances. All those tiny little things that make you think you’re nuts.

A few months of tiny stupid things later, I had an idea about a Facebook page specifically for my club. Steph, who ran the Facebook page we already had, didn’t like my idea and told our manager it was redundant. I didn’t take it personally because I felt it was an honest professional opinion. Our manager, pretty much siding with her but without having the guts to say it to my face, said we would revisit my idea and to bring it up again later, but when I did it was dismissed or ignored. I spent more time with Steph than anyone else and we would confided in each other, but she would tell me not to let our manager know we hung out and had lunches together because she would get jealous and act over emotional. When our manager wasn’t around the other girls would say they loved her but that she was pretty much a jealous dragon lady. If anyone in the department was doing things together she wanted to be included or she would make your work life hell.

Steph and the churchy gossip lady would have mood swings. One day they were pleasant and fun to be around. Another day they were terribly moody and hard to talk to. It was so obvious. Everything was written all over their faces. They would get in spats with each other and Steph would tell me about how the churchy gossipy lady hated the woman who was in my job first (It is to be noted the first person in my position was there for 17 years. The girl they hired to replace her when she retired quit after 2 weeks. Then I came in.).

Later we had a Christmas event for kids which I was in charge of. It was, however, my first year and the first time the girls had ever had to help walk someone through it. With that being said I thought I did a great job. I took initiative but also watched from a distance to observe how our manager wanted everything to be done. I needed to remember everything for the next year (they constantly reminded me of that). Again, I think I did a great job. I ran around the entire time during the event to make sure everything was right and everyone had what they needed at their stations. I even got on stage to announce Santa Clause, which was is very scary for an introvert and I made myself do it anyway. This was an event of 200+ people and I was told I did great by other people…though it took a few weeks for my own manager to remember she should tell me, good job. A few days after the event, since no one in our department told me how they thought it went, I asked Steph, who said, “Yeah I think you did good! However, some of the girls (there are only 2 others) felt like maybe they did a lot of work this year, which makes sense because this is your first year (duh) but maybe next year you could…do more.” I just smiled and said thanks for letting me know but I took it hard, and I thought it was quite a ridiculous thing to say. I also started to realize that Steph was probably talking about me behind my back as well. It didn’t make sense for her to say something like that without meaning to hurt my feelings.

In another occurrence we had a big mailing that we all had to work on, while the manager was out. I helped out all morning and then got sick and went home for the day. I’d been having thyroid problems, nothing I should have to explain, and the next day I tried to pick up my slack and finish up the mailing. A couple of days later, with the mailing out of my brain, I was phone-called down to HR. Yeah-HR. With no warning what-so-ever. My manager and the HR manager were waiting for me. My stomach was sick. What did I do now? I sat there and my manager talked to me about a time-sheet issue, which was no big deal, but then she talked me about how the girls felt I didn’t pull my weight with the big mailing. They had all gone to her and expressed this. Again, I was sick. All the stress over the months just poured out my eyes. I tried to say the best I could how I really wanted to fit in and how my new medication was affecting how I felt-which is why I called in-and how I didn’t know what I was doing wrong or how I could make them like me better. I tried to stay positive even after that, but I was beginning to unravel. I complained every night to Charles. I began looking for new jobs.

The girls weren’t the only culprits. My manager was a jealous woman just as they had said and I didn’t believe it until she pulled me into her office one day and asked if there was anything the girls were saying to me that she should know about. She said she knew that I was friends with Steph and not to let her opinion affect how I felt about her management skills. Towards the end of my stay my manager pulled me into her office again and said Steph told her that she had asked me for help with a project, and I simply said…No. This, if you know me, is also something I would never do. I told her no such thing happened and I would be happy to help and sorry if there was some kind of weird misunderstanding. She would say, I don’t know what’s up with her lately (Step, talking about her mood-swings). She would say, I think she might be jealous of how much work you’ve gotten to do. She would try to get me to tell her what the girls were saying. It was so obvious and so un-professional.

Long story long, I was beginning to have anxiety attacks. I felt alone and I felt manipulated and attacked. Sometimes I would burst into tears at my desk. And I’m sure, towards the end I began to act like them. I felt hostile and betrayed and didn’t know who my friends were and so I didn’t like anyone and I didn’t trust anyone anymore.

One day my manager criticized the way I organized some boxes. I was annoyed and short with her. I fixed the boxes. I went to lunch and I never went back to work. I wrote a short and professional email to her stating that I did not fit in with her and the girls. I said I appreciate the opportunity and I’m sorry things ended this way. She never emailed me back. She never called. She never texted (which she did a lot of before and not during work hours). She never even said I’m sorry you felt that way. I got nada. Which I’m glad, because it made me feel justified in my decision.

Quitting that job says something about my character, but it also says something about theirs, and especially about my manager’s. I won’t be all like, I never quit anything, because I have quit. When things don’t work out and I see a better path then I quit what I’m doing and I go for it. I don’t mind being a quitter. But I have never quit a job without another job lined up and especially without notice…and that says something about my desperate state.

I don’t regret what I did, only how hysterical it made me and how, for a while, I blamed myself and not being sure if what I did was right. I mean, maybe I should have had the balls, at least, to quit to my managers face. But the outcome wouldn’t be any different. I get more respect in my writing than I do in person and so that’s how I chose to handle it.

This experience makes me appreciate the jobs and the managers and the co-workers I had before. It makes me appreciate what it means to be a great leader, and a great team-mate. I will never, ever, take that for granted again. In previous positions it was the job, but this time, it was the people… and the people are what matter. I know that now.

So anyone wanna hire me? ;)