Friday, December 1, 2006

My Feelings Got Hurt

So I got to the new jobsite, dressed all snazzy and every hair in place, and I loved it from the first minute. Beautiful office, fabulous view across the Bay, bleached pine woodwork and black leather upholstery (a favorite combination of mine), all the amenities.

The office wasn't as big as I'd been led to believe, and the duties of the admin-assistant not as heavy, and of course the dress-code was a lot more casual than I was dressed for (my agency is always doing that to me). But otherwise, it left nothing to be desired, except for the cute guys, of which there were none. In fact, there was only one other male in the entire office, definitely not cute, and he was in the field most of the day.

Anyway, I was being trained by the incumbent, who was moving to New York to take a job there. I didn't ask her why she was leaving, I didn't want to appear too nosey. And a number of people were out of the office, so I didn't meet everyone. I can't say that I was particularly bubbly or effusive, mostly because I'd been terrified by my agent all week about how pernickety they were and was afraid to put a foot wrong.

I spent most of the day working on a filing project, in which all the Accounts Payable paperwork is attached to the property-site files for which they were paid, first in order of site-number and then in order of check-number, which was pretty complicated; I found it a challenge and rather pleasant, better than plain old first-name-last-name filing that I'd been doing at my last filing job. And I was told that one only does this filing twice a month, when the AP goes out.

The day came to a close, and I'd done rather a load of work and was pretty tired, and headed back to my car and thought about going to the store on the way home. And while I was sitting there looking for a pen so I could call the Grandmother and get a shopping list, my temp agent called... a call I was expecting, since they always call to check on you after the first day of a new assignment.

But the news she gave me was a shock: the client didn't want me to come back. No reason, nothing I did or didn't do or did wrong, it was just a matter of my not being a "personality fit." Which is employerese for "We don't like you."

Not like me? How can anyone not like me? And how can they not like me after one day's acquaintance? And especially after I had gone through so much stress and preparation to make sure they'd like me? Granted, I wasn't a big ball of sunshine, nervous as I was about making a good first impression, but I was by no means offensive! What's not to like?

So there I sat with the rug pulled out from under me one more time (yes, try as I might to avoid it, I got my hopes up again), the disappointment surmounted by the bewildering knowledge that they just didn't like me.

They made me cry.

Well, I was driving, so I didn't let myself cry. But when I got home, I had a good old wail. I haven't cried like that (without watching a movie) for ages. It was kind of cathartic, but also kind of unpleasant. I mean, it's embarrassing to be reduced to tears by something so childish as hurt feelings.

And still, there's a pain in my chest, after a long night of poor sleep. My ego just can't take crap like this. Neither can my bank account... I was really counting on a long-term assignment, I really need a regular paycheck and I need it right now.

Besides, it's just so bewildering to not know exactly what they didn't like about me. I mean, if there had been some criticism, I could file it away under "well maybe they're right" and try to correct it or else under "they're morons" and dismiss it... but not knowing is truly upsetting me, there's nothing to do with the information but turn it over in my mind and cry over it.

Oh, well... as they say, whatever doesn't kill us makes us stronger. Unless of course it weakens us so that the next thing that comes along does kill us. I think I'm going to take an extra Prozac this morning in the hopes that it will boost me out of this extra depression. I know I'm not supposed to take psych meds "as needed" but I've been forgetting to take them fairly frequently this last couple of weeks, so maybe that's why I'm getting so inordinately depressed... I've been thinking about suicide ever since I got home last night.

In the meantime, I think I will do some housework, keep my mind occupied for the day. I have some shelves I can put up in my room, and some laundry I can be doing. I shall endeavor to not let this day be a complete waste.

No comments:

Post a Comment