P.S. I'm a Sissy, If You Really Want the Truth

I am not good at secrets.  Lord, for those of you who have been reading my blog for almost 2 years now...you will know....I share everything.  And it won't be very hard for you to figure out who I am...regardless....

 

And after today's post, I got a friendly reminder email that this blog existed.  And so I decided to put it to good use. 

 

If you really want to know the truth about what is bothering me...basically I can sum it up for you.  I am weak.  That's right.  WEAK.  I know you are thinking "nu-uh"...but yes sugarplums...I am.

 

First, I should start with the fact that my job is pretty flexible, I work in a building with 3 people...none of which are my supervisors...and I can pretty much do nothing all day if I choose (and still manage to go above and beyond).

 

But I would like to second that above statement with the fact that I HATE MY JOB.  HATE IT.    I used to work for an evil witch (who, I have on good authority, now stalks my blog)...but she resigned after getting in trouble for basically being a BIATCH.  She managed the training department I worked in.  When I was recruited for this job almost 3 years ago, I was recruited to take her position when she retired.

 

Well.  She left, and my director (who I am actually older than), decided to not fill her position and instead created a new position in his other department for one of his buddies.  I WAS PISSSED!  The organization I work for is pretty clinical and behavioral health based, and if you work in the corporate development section like I do, there is little room for advancement. 

 

So.  I had to do something.  And with Shrinking Mommy in my head, I went to him and told him that although I did not want to leave the organization, I couldn't be 31 and making what I am making (it's sad people.  Real sad).  That I need to feel like I am moving forward.  That I find it ironic that I create, develop, and teach leaders and vice presidents of our organization at leadership conferences, yet I am not even a manager.

 

What I wanted from that conversation was an indication that he would do what it takes to keep me.  That he would go back to our VP and give me a raise and up my title.  Because now, instead of just doing the job I was hired for, I am doing everything my manager did...with no pay increase....with no title change.

 

And I do these things because I don't rock the boat.  Because I am a people pleaser and dependable.

 

Well eat my ass boss man.  NO MORE.

 

I am tired of being underpaid.  I am tired of living paycheck to paycheck.  If it wasn't for the extreme generosity of some very wonderful women, I couldn't have gone to Chicago.  I have $2 in my bank account until payday. 

 

And sadly, this is my own doing.  I have long underestimated my worth in the professional market.  I have this internal voice that says, "Other people are smarter than you.  Other people are better than you."  But do you know what I have found out?  Not so much my friends.  There are idiots out there running things...and do you know why?

 

Well, some of them come from good families that get them by on just their names...

 

But besides that...PEOPLE KNOW HOW TO SELL THEMSELVES BETTER THAN ME!

 

I don't push myself.  I don't sell myself. 

 

This is one of the great conversations I had with Deborah in Chicago.  She said "*insert my name here*, we are all selling ourselves everyday.  You sell yourself on your blog..." And she was right.  So I need to start believing that I am good enough.

 

So I have been applying for jobs.  And who likes applying for jobs?  NOT ME?  I hate resumes and cover letters.  But I am doing it.  Because something has to change.

 

I don't blog about work on my blog because a simple search of my name would reveal my blog to any prospective employers, or my current one...and I am smarter than the average bear mmmmkkkay?

 

The other thing that weighs on me everyday, even though I try to pretend it doesn't because I want to be a grownup...is my living situation.

 

It occurred to me today, that for the first time in my adult life, I live in a place that is not mine.  I have never owned a house, but I have rented or lived in places that I could "make my own".  And while I could do that in my current place...I can't really.  I want to, but I don't.  If you DO read my blog, you'd know that my soulmater and I live with her ex, whom she owns the house with.  It is temporary.  But it's terrible.  And there are options, but right now (please see the finance portion of this post above), this is one of the better options.

 

But I am a nester.  I like to decorate.  I like to organize.  I like to move furniture and hang wall art.  I like to plant flowers (although I will kill them).  I like to pretend to be Martha Stewart.  I can't bring myself to do that in our house...because it's not our house.  It's where I store my stuff.  It's where I get the chance to be with the person I love.  But it is not my sanctuary.  It's not my safe place.  I have no home.

 

And when I type that, it makes me feel so materialistic.  It makes me feel shallow and silly.  It makes me feel ungrateful that even though I have a roof over my head and get to crawl into bed with the person of my dreams every night...I am not satisfied.  But the truth of it is...a home is important to me.  And how frustrating to find this person you were waiting for...and then not be able to start your life the way you want.

 

It makes me overwhelmingly sad.  I can't sleep at night because I can't shut my brain off.  I can't figure out how to find peace with the situation I am in right now.  And I should be able to.  Things could be worse. 

Sigh.

 

So there you have it. 

 

The truth.

 

Loves you pumpkin heads!  Is it Tuesday yet?