Remember how I mentioned I had a job land in my lap? I was all excited because it had arrived just as I was saying I desperately needed a job. In fact, on the flight back from New Orleans I was thinking about how I really needed a good paying job otherwise I would run out of money and very very soon (when I wasn’t moping about leaving that fabulous city).
I got home and had received an email from a guy I had interviewed with right when I first moved here. In that email was a job offer. Was I interested?
Let’s rewind just a tiny bit here, to before I left for New Orleans. You see, he had contacted me maybe two weeks before this job offer; he had found me on facebook and started emailing with me back and forth. He wanted to get together for lunch or coffee but something was telling me to keep putting it off. The intuition that I rarely listen to was blaring it’s horn at me that something wasn’t right. But I didn’t want to burn any bridges and so I agreed to meet for lunch on the Monday before I left for NOLA.
Suddenly he had turned that lunch into dinner and music. I panicked. I think my hands flew up and if there were papers nearby, they would have been scattered. No. No. No. No. So I canceled altogether which was probably best because all those errands, packing and drinks with Cali would have most definitely gotten in the way anyhow.
So a week goes by, I get the job offer and with dollar signs in my eyes, I accept.
Monday morning rolls around and I go to the address he gives me at eleven in the morning. A time we had shook hands over. Now, I don’t know about you, but when I agree to do something, I STICK TO MY WORD. I knock on the door, and no answer. I call him, no answer. I sit around for twenty minutes and still, no one shows up. So I leave and when I get home and get online, I see that he’s also online. So I shoot him an IM.
He apologizes for not being there and then basically blames me, saying that since I hadn’t been in touch over the past week, he thought I wouldn’t show up.
How unprofessional does he think I am?
So we reschedule for yesterday. I show up, everything seems okay until he leads me into his home office…which happens to be his BEDROOM.
No, I hadn’t been hired as a stripper or prostitute.
The whole day was extremely uncomfortable. We chatted and he was nice and everything, but I don’t think I can work with someone who says it’s their life goal to have sex in every state.
This is my BOSS we’re talking about.
Granted, that’s my goal too but it’s not something I discuss with my boss, or even my coworkers, especially not on the first day. Ironically, Grace wrote a post yesterday about workplace no-no’s that really shouldn’t matter that I read right before I left for work–and I agreed with her. 40 things you can’t discuss at work? What’s with all the restrictions? At my last job my coworkers and I discussed EVERYTHING under the sun. We knew everything about our lives and we discussed controversial news topics and even had a formal political debate. Sex wasn’t even that taboo. But this was with my coworkers–coworkers who also happened to be some of my best friends outside of work. Even with our levels of openness, we had a sense of professionalism that continued through all this. We all respected each other because our relationships had started on a very professional level.
My 60 year old male boss? Most definitely was not involved in these conversations. And if he had so much as said something even the least bit sexual to any of us, we would have thrown several lawsuits in his direction. The fact that this guy, my new boss, was mentioning sex several times during the course of my first day did not leave me in the most comfortable of positions. It didn’t help I was also sitting in his bedroom.
I got in the car after four hours of dull work, and I called my mom. My mom, the voice of reason would surely know what to do in this situation (and would most likely talk me down from my I WANT TO QUIT ledge.). The first thing out of her mouth was, You cannot work there.
My father backed up this statement.
They reiterated what I already knew, what my intuition had been telling me from the beginning. That this wasn’t the right fit, that something was off and that I could not work there, no matter how badly I needed the money.
I hate being that person. That person who quits.
I have no issues with the fact that I quit in August. My mental health depended on me leaving that job. Leaving and going to Europe was the best thing I have done for myself in a long time, if not ever. Taking a job now that isn’t good for me, that would put me in a similarly stressed state would be detrimental to my new, improved (I hope!) self. It would be like quitting smoking then nearly a year later, switching to a lighter cigarette. (Bad analogy?)
The fact that I quit my job after only a day, however, doesn’t sit well with me. I am so not that person who just quits because she doesn’t like something. I tend to stick things out until it festers and is so blatantly obvious that it’s bad for me–like my last job, like my last big relationship. I like giving things chances. If I don’t, I feel bad, like they deserved more time spent with them. Even when they most certainly did not.
As Doni said to me today, my time is valuable. It is better to put my valuable time–and this applies to everyone, our time IS valuable–into something that I love, that I’m passionate about. That I can get behind. After Boulder Startup Week and meeting all these passionate entrepreneurs, it’s hard not to feel this way. After spending nearly two years of my life in a dead-end job, it’s hard not to feel this way.
So it’s back to the job hunt for now. Back to searching every job search engine out there and trying to make as many connections as possible. I’m just glad I have as many people in my corner as I do. It’s amazing how one little status update will send a flurry of emails into your inbox from friends all over the country who want to help you out.
It’s good to have so many people in your corner.
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