Let's call this post a two-for-one special!
I quit my job today. I know...sounds crazy...but I gave it long and serious thought. It was a matter of weighing the pros and cons. The cons definitely outweighed the pros. The job kept me in near crippling pain every day. I'm no stranger to pain. I've been in near contant pain for 40 years. I also have a higher than average pain tolerance, which has long been a source of concern for my doctors. Seems I'm prone to hurting myself without knowing it. To some, this may seem like a blessing...until you factor in the long term damage.
I've had back problems for years. I had my 1st spinal surgery in 1998, after 3 years of misdiagnoses (there's that high pain tolerance. Most people would've known something was wrong much earlier. All I got was a headache that wouldn't go away). Since my surgery, I've had nerve damage and pain in my left leg. After many tests and various failed treatments, I simply learned to live with it. You'd be amazed at what you can learn to live with.
Since starting this job, some serious pain has taken hold. The job wasn't difficult...just boring. It also seemed to aggravate my back. The nerve damage/pain in my left leg got worse (I can deal with that) but...my right leg and hip have now joined the party. This means I've hurt something else without knowing it. Every day I'm in some new level of constant pain. I'm finding ways to handle it...but it's not worth making the situation worse...especially for what I was being paid (and no benefits either...so screw that!).
There was also another problem. I will not take threats of a physical nature at work. I go to work to do my job and earn a living...just like anyone else. If I agree to take a job, that means I agree to do the best job I can. Sadly, many others out there don't agree with this. One co-worker in particular. He and I only worked together once or twice. I had no thoughts about him other than the shared knowledge that work is not his strong suit.
I went to work one day last week only to be informed, before I'd even gotten out the car (!), that this guy was planning to jump me at work at some point during the day. The simple fact that he was sharing this information with so many people made me doubt his credibility and also made note of his obvious need for attention...but 25 years in the mental health field, I learned to take threats seriously. At one point, he & I had words and I realized he was serious. My supervisor was alerted to the situation and took me aside to discuss it. Meetings were arranged, and the usual managerial hooplah involved. The day of the meetings, I was early (as usual) but this other co-worker didn't even bother to show. I was told that he would be terminated.
This guy finally showed up nearly 2 hours late. Of course he whined, cried foul, and due to some family connections within the company, was given a 2nd chance. I was also verbally reprimanded by management for "probably provoking him in some way". A hostile work environment had been created. Supervisors had to rearrange things to keep us in seperate parts of the building. Of course, the threats and insults continued.
That, factored in with the near constant pain, and my desire to not add to my already existing criminal record, and the knowledge that this is a dead end job, gave me food for thought. I have shows lined up through out the month plus I have 2 more paychecks coming, so financially I'm OK. I was about to be offered another job, a more desirable job I might add, when I took this one, so I'm looking into that again. Hopefully there's still a position open. If not...I'll just find something else. I'm also planning on a certification in my field (that I should be able to finish in a matter of weeks), which may possibly open up a few new positions for me.
So all in all, life is OK. I discussed my thoughts and decision-making process with the young'un (who has worked there for almost 6 years) and she agreed with me. This is also motivating her to look for something better for herself...so again, things do seem to happen for a reason. I also got to do some ministering with a young co-worker who has been struggling with some personal issues...and it seems that person is now ready to make some positive life changes. So again, I'm A-OK with all of that.
And now...a story about pugs.
I've always loved pugs. They remind me of little Martian dogs! I've noticed over the past few years that their popularity has increased immensely! They're not the healthiest of critters...but damn, they are just so cute! And they're fun dogs too!
Our mum was an artist. Most people who know me and my family know this. When I was a kid of 4-5 years of age, mum used to take her paintings to this one lady to have them framed. This lady was a bit of a space cadet...her hobbies included astrology and biorhythm charting. She also had a pug. It was the 1st I'd ever seen and damn, it was such a cute, playful little thing! Whenever mum had to go see the frame lady, she'd take me along. While they discussed art, framing, and whatever other weirdo stuff they discussed, I'd be on the floor playing with the pug. This dog just loved me! Dogs and little boys both love attention, and we gave it to each other in heaps! One day, the frame lady asked if I would like to take the dog home with me. Mom was in another part of the shop checking out frame styles for a certain painting, and hadn't heard this offer. We already had 2 rather large dogs; a boxer (Spike) and spaniel mix (Reddy). I was pretty sure that mum, an animal lover, would be thrilled with the idea of adding this adorable little Martian dog to our menagerie (dogs, fish, assorted hamsters, gerbils, and lizards). I was ecstatic, to say the least. This little pug would be MY dog...my constant, snorting, wheezing, 4-legged, curly-tailed, bug-eyed companion. I imagined us playing every day. Then the bomb dropped...
"Mom! She says I can take the pug home with me!!!!!!", I said once I had my mother's attention. The look on her face was one I had never seen. It was the look of HELL NO!!!!!! Mom, in her infinite wisdom, knew that MY dog would most likely become HER responsibility. Feeding it, cleaning up after it, and keeping the other dogs from eating it...those would soon become part of her never-ending job as Mom: Critter Keeper of the House of Metzger. Sure, I'd play with the dog....but the less than fun parts would become mum's job. Then there would be the probable and numerous vet visits...and The Wrath of Dad. Don't get me wrong, our dad liked dogs...he just didn't like surprises. Especially living, breathing, EATING surprises. My brothers, sister and I were great at finding strays...and bringing them home in the hopes of adding to our menagerie. Dad just wasn't hip to it.
Mom, kindly & patiently, explained all the reasons why we couldn't take the dog. Most importantly, that the dog already had a home and it wouldn't be right for me to take this cute dog away from it's home. The frame lady would eventually be sad and miss the pug. I refused to believe this...I mean really, the frame lady wanted to give it away! Mom explained that she was just being nice. I was a sad little boy that day...until we got home and I got to play with the dogs we already had (and loved and treated like family).
To this day, I still love pugs. They just seem to respond to me...and I to them. Who knows, one of these days I might even add one to my household...provided Day-Z the cat allows it. She barely tolerates the young'un...so I'm not so sure how she would handle a pug.
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