Introductory digression: I feel as rustic as can be, pouring homebrew from the spout in the garage with only the aid of moonlight! This kiwi-wheat is incredible! I've never seen anything like it sold, but I'd recommend it to anyone for a light summer beer. It's not as tart as something like "Summer Shandy," but holds all the smoothness of your "Hoegaarden" (forgive me if that's a mispelling).
My previous blog (here, if you're interested) talks about working for the sake of working, rather than out of a need to work. I also admit, however, that I am completely guilty of this very thing. For instance, I put in my two weeks and yet am readily taken in by their counter offer.
Let me be clear: I didn't put my two-weeks in out of hard feelings. Something has come up that will cause my absence for the larger part of July and August, and its something important enough to me that I would quit my job for it. I can't just "take off" for a month and expect my job to be waiting for me when I get back. They assure me otherwise. Even my co-workers, those that I was most worried about upsetting, are asking if I will come back.
My other reason for quitting, I admit, is that it was somewhat bothersome to me that, despite training 6 employees in the past two years (4 of whom still work there) and being directly and solely responsible for recovering thousands of dollars in unbilled transactions, I was never given a title. As far as my resume is concerned, I have never been more than someone's assistant. I understand that with a title, comes more responsibility, etc. The problem is, I have been understaking all that responsibility for some time now, bearing the brunt of co-worker's grumblings (even their grumblings against me when I settled fights), and yet the position/pay of office manager has been left with someone who has been on maternity leave for about two years.
(side note: while my current employer is not aware that I have a blog, or even an email for that matter, I only write about this freely because I have already discussed these things with them)
So I quit; my last day is in about a week. Now they are saying, dude, just come back after a month. There's a spot for you, and its a manager's position with corresponding pay raise. Come in once, maybe twice a week, whenever you want--make up your own hours. We need you.
Yowza. Just dim the lights, pour the martini, and call me tempted. It's really nice to be needed.
* * *
On the dance front, I have just begun rehearsal for a Labor Day performance. This same group also performed last year in the same locale, a great big wading pool downtown. Said wading pool is completely off limits to anyone without appropriate insurance policy, so its not exactly relaxing--and hey, we're only in it after months of rehearsal (of "choreographed splashing"). While the dance venue itself is essentially the same from last year (with a few different dancers), the venue has changed to include an auction of "local celebrity art." Now, I'm the last one to knock this great place I'm from, in fact I'm usually the first and last to defend it amongst friends, but as far as "local celebrities" are concerned, I wasn't sure exactly what she meant, this gal in charge. Then she mentioned the first volunteer to call with a contribution to the auction---*ahem* the mayor's wife. So, I guess I'm rollin' with the big-hitters, now. It should be a semi-intersting turn of events--likely including an unpleasant few weeks whilst I balance rehearsals with the start of the school year. I did the same thing last year, though, and lived to tell about it. In an ideal world, my dance rehearsals are an escape from the hustle n bustle of more demanding, if not thankless, everyday life.