refusing to take my advice -- about
career direction, about avoiding daytime TV, about not locking herself
the world for days and weeks and months at a time -- and now all of a
is *her* idea?
I don't THINK so.
She started her new job on Monday. For
three interminable months, during
her prolonged period of Temporary Unfortunate Voluntary Unemployment this past summer, I urged her
to take the first decent offer that
came along. "You
can't afford to dilly-dally," I reminded her. She has bills
pay, after all. She's putting a Tot through college. She
a shampoo habit
to support. In *my* opinion, as a professional Life
Coach-slash-Hand Puppet, she couldn't afford to just sit around in her
all summer, watching Made-for-Lifetime TV movies and popping pills like
did she listen to me? Nooooooo.
She spent the entire three
turning down one perfectly not-completely-terrible opportunity after
to commute to Berkeley every day,"
Or, "I don't waaaaant to be
receptionist's desk again."
Or, "I don't
waaaaaaant to boil steer carcasses at the gelatin factory.")
And then when the
job did come along -- when she finally got off
her butt, got off the drugs, got back out into the world -- she actually
had the nerve to take all of the credit for her success.
"See?" she said to
it would be worth the wait." And then she waltzed off to Mervyn's to
buy new underwear for work.
So ... that's it. I'm outta
at your new job, Secra. I'll admit
that it's a good fit for you, professionally and personally.
You've got a groovy new title. You've got another nice lady boss.
You've got an office of your own: no more front desk. Your
new office is literally right around the corner from your apartment:
to and from work every day. (Plus you can come home at lunch
and catch forty minutes' worth of
Made-for-Lifetime TV movies, if you're so inclined.)
It beats boiling steer
carcasses behind a receptionist's desk in Berkeley. I'll give
falls apart, three weeks or six months or eleven years down the
road ... when you decide that you're sick and tired of THIS job, and
want to take another big chunk of dysfunctional time off, just for
kicks ... don't come crying to
Call a Life Coach-slash-Hand Puppet who CARES.
to throw a rock?