Speak about destruction

My career implosion continues. I was up all night with the baby and angst about my job. Mentally, I was a little loose today.

Next week, I have to be out of the office. First, because I have to have a colonoscopy. Second, because I am doing some pro bono work for a Bar Association.

My mother died from colon cancer so postponing is not an option. Postponing the pro bono work isn’t an option either because I have to feel like my law degree is useful to somebody. I have to do this.

All I wanted  to do was to make up the hours that I was going to be out of the office. I even told the powers that be that I would just stay late and work there. But this cascaded when they found out that I work from home on Wednesdays. Since the woman I was talking to represents HR for our division, I had assumed that she already knew.

I got word this morning, no working from home. No working past 5.

I think I was just so tired and frustrated I went into this woman’s office, and I exploded. I told her everything. I told her about how I was promised a job if I came on as a contract worker, how Farrah was abusive, how I worked at home because they pay me so little I can’t afford day care. And in the midst of it all, I stumbled upon a decent legal argument: I am a contract worker so I should have more control over my schedule. If they want to control my hours and where I work, then I am an employee and they need to pay me what they pay the others.

Suddenly, it wasn’t, “Feel sorry for me,” it was, “I’ve got a real argument here.”

The girl looked at me (and she is a girl) and said she would get back to me.

So then I went into Interim Director’s office, and I appealed to him. As weird as he is, I have always liked him. He listened to all my complaints. He made strange comments about wanting to die making love and not at the DMV. But honestly, I felt heard by him. He has been replaced by the new Director so he has no power, but whatever, we connected.

I then left to go to my AA meeting. When I came back, word had spread. People were asking my friends (who I hadn’t said anything to) about what had happened.

So here is how it shaped up:


  1. Farrah is no longer my supervisor!
  2. I have at least delayed the decision about working at home
  3. Everybody wanted to hear the scuttlebutt. All the people who have been ignoring me stopped by to catch the gossip.


  1. My mental health issues are beginning to show.

A bit of a wash really.


8 thoughts on “Speak about destruction

  1. I don’t know, it sounds like it worked out for good. Farrah not being your supervisor sounds like a reason to celebrate to me. So you told them what was bothering you, it’s not like you burst into tears and started screaming…or did you? ok joking, but seriously I really don’t think they think you have mental issues

  2. Oh wow, lady. Sounds like you needed to let it out and that, at least on the face, it appears to have worked in your favor. Hope that more awesomeness comes your way.

    And, hey, good luck on the colonoscopy. Take a run around the block before you go in so you can make sure your BP is up. Take it from me, unanesthetized colonoscopies due to low BP suuuuckkk!

  3. Good for you! Yes, you exploded, but it sounds like you did so in an amazingly productive way! And – YES to no more Farrah!

    Will be thinking good thoughts re: the colonoscopy.

  4. Colonoscopy sucks, but I seem to recall they give really good drugs. So, that’s something. I’m sure it’ll be more pleasant than working for Farrah, regardless! Good riddance, crazy supervisor!

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