Is a hotdog, only a hotdog?

Death to poochy?

This is how I feel when I’m hung over.

Today I was informed the person who held my job previously was not “a perfectionist”. Apparently they often worried that she would not do the job appropriately and were “afraid” to ask her to do things. Hopefully, I am able to live up to expectations.

The word “perfectionist” is a tricky term. Some people relate it to being extremely anal, while others use it to mean “detailed”. Of course, there is always the “bad fit”, where whatever you do will never match the expectations that a person has for your performance.

I’ve been thinking about how it’s like the early 80’s Jane Fonda work out videos. Back in the day, everyone in the Jane video dressed the same and did the work out the same way. On a new work out video I purchased everyone is dressed differently and they all perform the work out slightly different at different levels. The assumption is that all these ways (and your own way) are correct. Unfortunately, some people still wish the world was like the old Jane Fonda videos, and people could be as robotic as possible. You probably can tell, I am not a Jane Fonda video person. Although, I’ve been known to work out to her tapes. Her voice is very soothing. I’m sure some people would like things to go back to the 70’s work out videos, where they resembled soft porn, but that’s another story.

Sigh.

It’s over. The job search has landed job. It pays better, better benifits and started right away. Who could ask for more? It was predestined, I suppose. Thank God. From now on God is my career headhunter.

Starting a new job has never felt less intimidating. I had training (something neglected on the last two jobs), I have a sympathetic team who just wants me to do my best, and I have job perks. Yes! I’m starting to like this.

I guess sometimes its good to be dumped by the alcholic loser, in order to open your eyes to Mr. Right. So being dumped, even if you were the one who wanted to leave anyway, is just as good as leaving.

So for now, I’m on job number three in ten months. Hopefully this is the last job for three years. Hey, I’m a Taurus and I hate change. Even when its good for me.

Total hate.

I lost my job last week. My stupid, worthless, over-sold, boring-as-crap, no benefits, low-pay, demeaning, white-slave, nose-picking job. And why, may you ask, am I so upset about it? Because I didn’t get motivated enough to leave first.

Even though they never closed a sale in six months, even though my job became more and more of a freakish errand-girl job, I feel P.O’d. I wish I could shake it off, stop hating and write it off as a bad, bad choice.

It feels like a horrible relationship that just drags, and drags until you finally get dumped. Then you feel sick to your stomach that YOU were not the one to say, “It’s not you. Its me.”

Now I have to go on this war path to find a new job and put aside my hate and spin my firing into something that doesn’t make me sound like a complete failure and waste of human space. I need to spin it so I don’t sound bitter or resentful.

Daily I meditation on not reliving every weird situation that job presented. I meditate on removing my anguish from spending SIX MONTHS of my life trying to make (as a good friend said) “Chicken salad out of chicken shit.” I spent SIX MONTHS trying to make a part-time position a full-time one. Trying to learn without training, to make the impossible possible and to please the unappeasable.

Augh! That felt good to vent that.

Now I’m going to give up to God. Personally, I’m not very good at directing my own career path. People go to God for weight loss, marriage advice, addiction recovery, and forgiveness in prison. I need God to be my own career guidance councilor. I’m giving it up to him, looking inward to stop the hating and blaming (despite the reoccurring dreams of being fired or ridiculed over and over) and listen for an inner nudge.

I’m also using monster.com