The Last Straw - Part One

So, I don't know if I've given you a real idea of the following:

a. how much I LOVED my job. LOVEDLOVEDLOVED

b. how crazy my boss was (is)

c. how easy/hard the decision to leave became

Yeah, that last one is confusing to me, too.

But, regardless of what I've gotten across so far, we have come to the last straw.

The one that broke me.

To this point, I have worked hard, made very, very little money, and been abused in ways that astound even I.

Before we get to the good stuff, I just want to be on record as having said the following:

* I understand that I accepted the salary for my job and knew what it was when I took the position,
so I shouldn't complain about it. If you knew what I'd made, you'd complain on my behalf, though.

* I also understand that under no circumstances was I the perfect employee. No one is. Unless they work for themselves. Then they can be both the perfect employee AND the perfect boss. It's Nirvana, that.

* I further agree that I did not handle my final leave-taking in a professional manner and didst knowingly screw my staff right in the bumhole.

That said, let's get on with it.



I'm having trouble expressing to you the goings-on without telling you where I worked or what I did, so if it seems a little convoluted to you, just go with it. I promise, in the end, the details won't really matter.

Summer was (still is, but you get the idea) the busiest time of year for my group. There are mostly ten hour days with much continuous outdoor activity in absolutely scorching heat. We actually train for our summer sessions. Workouts, learning how to distribute weight evenly when walking or running, carrying water at all times, even down to figuring out the right shoes to wear.

During what became my last week, I was going to be out of my office with a group of guests working on some projects out in the facility. On my office door was a schedule listing where I was going to be at any given time on any given day, down to the ten-minute mark, my cellphone number (even though we all had each other's numbers programmed in our respective phones) the radio number to not only reach me, but the other groups I'd be working with and the name of my scheduled 'runner' and his or her radio number each day. This was not a last-minute project. This schedule had been written, submitted to head director for approval, edited for whatever reasons needed, resubmitted, approved and circulated through the entire company. There were copies at the front desk and with my admin. My boss even had a copy hanging on her wall less than eighteen inches from her face. I know, because she made a point of telling me she had it there.

There was no reason for what happened next.

Apparently, something had gone awry in the office. My admin had not done something-or-other that she was supposed to. To be honest, to this day I'm still not exactly sure what happened. But, I do know that instead of having the admin take care of it like she should have, the boss tried to call and text me.

For two hours.

And I had no idea.

I was in a location that was commonly understood to receive almost -zero- cell phone reception. It was a known fact, if you were at this point, you would most likely not get calls, texts or even subliminal messages. I don't even think most people could call emergency services from there. I know I couldn't. However, radio (and by 'radio', I mean walkie-talkie or two-way radios) and land-line phones were perfectly usable.

Please note, she did not call via the land line.
She did not radio me.
She did not call or radio my runner.
She did not send up smoke signals.
She did not attempt any other way to reach me except for my cell phone.
Also note, that I was required to have my cell phone at all times and respond immediately to any communication from her. However, the company was not paying my bill.

I finished up out of the office that morning, and came back around lunch, with absolutely NO idea what was about to happen. I was looking forward to the turkey sandwich I'd brought for lunch and a diet coke. That's all.

I'm going to make a very long and unpleasant story brief:

I was:

• Called into the boss's office.
• Blamed entirely for whatever it was that had happened.
• Yelled at for thirty minutes about ignoring her phone calls.
• Told to {direct quote here} 'shut the fuck up' when I attempted to explain the dead zone part of the place.
• Accused of sabotage. Yes, sabotage. I can't make this shit up, folks.
• Told I was less than nothing.
• Called names.

• destroyed.

I spent the remainder of my day doing my job in an absolute blank. I had never been spoken to like that by someone. I mean, my mom talks to me like that, but that's my mom! Moms can do that. Not the boss. Jim and Anna were both seriously concerned for me.

I'm not going to lie.

So was I.

To be continued...

Today I am thankful that I'm almost done purging all of this from my head. I'll let you bastards chew on it awhile. Maybe someone out there will be able to tell me where I went wrong.