Bringing Me Down

I told Linda today that if it weren’t for her, I probably would have quit my job already. She was ready to go to war for me but I quickly distracted her, asking her a question about lamps. I know it seems stupid to quit a good job. I get paid well enough, I had benefits since my first day, and I’ve just signed up for a 401k plan- my dad joking that I’ll be taking care of my brother and sister in our old age. So then why would I want to quit? I’m in a spot at 22 then a lot of people in my generation aren’t even close to being at yet. It’s the sheer frustration and anger and depression the dumper gives me while I’m at work. I’m swamped at the moment. I must have sent out 8 requests for quotes yesterday on different jobs we’ve been asked to price. And on top of that, Linda is going out of town and will be gone tomorrow, Thursday and Friday so I’m trying to get as much done as I can today while she’s still around to make sure I’m not screwing something up entirely.

But the dumper doesn’t see this. He just sees me sitting at my desk, ignoring the folders and papers spread out around me, and thinks that I’m his personal slave. When Bob had interviewed me for this job, if at any time I thought that I was hiring to be a personal assistant/slave/bitch to the dumper, I wouldn’t have taken this job. I really wouldn’t have. My official title is Lighting Assistant. I’m the assistant to the Lighting Specialist, who is Linda. Nowhere does it say assistant to the dumper in my title or job description. He wasn’t in the office this morning but he kept calling my phone, wanting to know what I was doing and if I was working on any of the quotes he had dumped on me yesterday.

Linda wants me to go talk to the boss and tell him what’s going on. I don’t want to be a bother. I’ve only been officially employed in the real world since May. I graduated on Sunday, had the job interview on Monday and by Thursday of that week, I was hired. Who does that happen to? I have a house, a dog, a car, health insurance, a 401k plan, and enough money leftover to buy books and movies that I want. This is a good life that has fallen into my lap. But every day I go to work, I dread turning the corner to go to my desk because the dumper might be there. And if he’s in the office, he’s going to live up to his name and I sit there for the entire time he’s at his desk, actually dreading the moment when I hear him say my name, coming up behind me because I know that he’s about to give me more work, HIS work, to do on top of what I’m doing and what Linda has me doing.

Just wait until I write my book about my adventures in the real world. I’m not going to try very hard at masking his identity. He’ll be lucky if I even change his name and when he reads it, he’ll know then exactly how I feel about him. Someday, he’ll finally know but by then, I won’t be around to see if he’ll change as a result. I doubt it though. I’m sure once you’re a dumper, you’re always a dumper.