Safety Dance

Still crying but in little drips and not so often.

RCW has a point, as she always does.

But it isn't just this. There was something else at work and I really don't want to go into it. I call my own foul.

I had hoped that Unnamed Co. would be the place where I once again knew what being safe felt like. I think I hallucinated the past three months of it. Even freakier, I can't really remember much of anything past last September.

Well, the simple truth for me is that there is no such thing as safety.

Oddly, I'm in a more precarious position now than I was six months ago when I started working at Unnamed Co. I have a new car and new debt along with it. Other than my 401ks, I basically have nothing in savings and Ma Maisonette gently crumbling around my ears. And absolutely no leeway in my budget.

Will I look for another roomie? I don't know. Pickings are very slim and given my past experience, I don't want anyone other than a female grad student from Nearby U.

Will I go back into petsitting as a parttime gig? This is tempting. Unfortunately, the liability insurance is $400/yr, which I don't have right now.

Will I try to get some freelance writing gigs on eLance? Hm. I'll look.

Will I sell stuff on eBay? Yes. That's a start in the right direction.

Maybe I'll be moving south a lot sooner than I thought.

Maybe when I go in today, Boy Wonder might have thought about what he did to me yesterday. I don't think he was expecting the reaction of utter devastation that he got. Could there be a conscience lurking beneath that Machiavellian exterior? I'm not counting on it.

But what it amounts to is that yes, I will go to work today. But my heart is gone for it. I think I'm going to look around for another job, anyway, most likely as a contractor. Obviously I can't hold a job for more than six months. Maybe I should find an environment where that's not just the norm, but it's expected.

RCW is right that I'm too fast off the mark. But better to leave before you're asked to leave.

Oops. Crying again.