I wondered if this had to do with my taking off a week and a half when my brother died. The entire time I was gone, she assured me that all was well and to take as much time as needed. She waited a month after I returned to tell me that she was going to dock my pay. When I told my Grandma Judy this, she was outraged. “The other day I heard a woman use the term ‘double-bitch’,” said my grandmother on the phone as she was probably knitting or making a batch of her ambrosia salad. “And that’s what your boss is- a double-bitch!” You know you must be doing something bad when a little ole grandmother calls you a double-bitch.
Now, I know what you are thinking: I should have quit a long time ago. Who wants to work for a double-bitch? Just when I thought I couldn’t handle Dot anymore, I’d get a bonus. Truth be told, despite Dot and her manipulations, I like event planning. Besides, with my pending move to New York, why find another job in Atlanta?
Dot cleared her throat and suddenly seemed to have difficulty looking at me. “As you know, business has been slow and I hate to do this, but I’m going to have to lay you off.” Forever the drama queen, Dot immediately starting crying. She started crying. Because, well, you know, this is all about her.
Within seconds, I went through three emotions:
- Stunned. How could you do this when I’m trying to save money for New York?
- Anger. You double-bitch! I was gonna quit! You beat me to it!
And 3. Happiness.
It was warm and over powering. I remained seated and polite as she nervously handed me my separation paperwork but inside, I was dancing and shouting, “I’m free! I’m free!” I fought to suppress a giant smile.
Back at my desk, I gathered my belongings. My assistant, Rick, who was about as bright as a pair of balls in pantyhose, ran into my office, alarmed. “What are you doing?” he asked as I grabbed my murse to leave.
“I’m going to New York,” I said, smiling. He stood dumbfounded as I left my office.
For nearly a year, I have been saying that I want to move to New York but have never really put forth any action. As I made my way out to door, I realized I had gotten too comfortable in Atlanta and this was the push I needed. The time is now, I thought. I have to move to New York NOW.
“Would you like to go around and say goodbye to everyone?” asked a teary Dot.
I was already making a mental to-do list. Search for an apartment. Search for a job. Sell my belongings. Disconnect my utilities.
“No,” I said. “I have a lot to do!” And with that, I walked out the door and partly ran/partly danced all the way to the train station, never looking back, not even once.