It feels like the end of things. One week, everything is over.
My manager is leaving. He's the reason I didn't quit this job six months ago. Last week felt like the week before graduation. An ending.
I'm looking seriously to find a new job, there isn't anything left here that I want. An end, not a new begining.
My music isn't helping, I'm listening to Matt Nathason (Detroit Waves). Sad music. Finality.
After everything. There is an overriding sense of ending.
This is the feeling you get when you spend all night awake with your best friend who joined the marines and is shipping out tomorrow. This is the feeling you get when you spend all night with the person you love before they fly to another continent forever. This is the feeling you get when you spend a night with someone because you know they might not ever come back.
This is the feeling you get walking to the car at sunrise to drive them to the airport. It's cold, and it's real, and it's melancholy. It's final - and it' sad.
This is what things feel like here. We had something, and now it's over. It's not just the end of something - It's the end of a lot of somethings.
8 comments:
I've spent more time reading about your manager leaving than I spent thinking about mine.
the melodrama of this post made me almost barf. i had a little in my throat. almost.
Ummm....so what was up with you and your manager?
"there isn't anything left here that I want."
Disturbing. :-p
Drama Queen.
Yes, it's a big deal. The High-strung guy cried a little. There were more hugs (4) than I'd anticipated (0).
I can tell you at least half of the group is just pretending he's on vacation for the next two weeks so they can get used to the idea.
Downside? Hypermanager and the guy that I hate just got more control. Instantly. It means openly ignoring their requests is now quite a bit riskier than it was before.
Thanks for the comments!
signed,
a sucker for melodrama
Somebody get the fairy a fucking tissue.
Maybe you can go cry your heart out on Stupid Kid's shoulder, and he can comfort you, and you can make out.
Homo.
Finally someone said it.
i thought you hated the job anyway...
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