I am just like Tigger, I bounce because that’s what us Tiggers do

First off, let me start by saying this, Laci, you my luv, keep me going.  You always look at every blog post, every story I tell about my life as the next great adventure. You are always ready, bags packed, jumping up and down “Let’s Go!  Can’t wait to see what this one brings!!” when my perspective is “In this chapter, the heroine once again fucks up her life and now has to spend way too much time and energy digging herself out of yet another mess when we all know that time would better be spent drinking margaritas, and that money spent on shoes.”

So, on to the next chapter (or Adventure).

For reasons that will stay between me, my boss, and the General Manager, I walked into the dealership where I worked Thursday morning and resigned.  There are a whole lot of reasons why this was really a good move on my part.  Other than the fact I wasn’t exactly prepared for it, unemployment is awesome.  I can sleep late, I can wear jeans, I can spend all day on the internet (looking for jobs people, I am not always 110% irresponsible) I don’t have to shave my legs (that comes from no man as well. DOUBLE BONUS) I am always home when the girls leave for school, and come home from school.  The downside is?  I am flat ass have no money eating Ramen noodles and drinking generic coffee broke until unemployment checks start coming in. (Please god don’t let that take 6 weeks).

Thursday morning I got up and got ready for work. The dilemma was what to wear.  I mean, what does one wear to a resignation ceremony?  Richard Nixon wore a suit and tie, but I don’t own either. I could very well walk in wearing jeans because I was only there to resign. Or I could wear my usual skirt and heels on the off chance somebody saw me, I wanted to look like I still belonged, and didn’t want them to question why I was in jeans.  I didn’t want to have to explain anything to anyone.  In fact I went out of my way to be sure I saw as few as people as possible.  I wanted to prevent turning a resignation into a termination which I hear can be accomplished with a single face punch. Maybe I burned a few bridges, and I know I hurt  more than a few feelings, but I also knew I didn’t want to have to explain anything to anyone.  Or lie to them.

I used to think I kept pretty true to my own rule, “The Buddy Shit ends at the door” which meant, with very few exceptions, I will be your friend while we are on the clock, but once I walk out the door to go home, we are acquaintances at best.  It meant I tried to keep personal relationships to a minimum.  But now, I need references and they can’t all come from the same place of employment.  Clearly since I wrote paychecks I could write beautiful recommendations.  In the industry I was working in, there is generally a lot of turn over.  And everyone stays in touch with everyone so we always knew where our former employees ended up.  Click click on the internet I had addresses and phone numbers, make a few phone calls, send a few text messages, and bingo I have glowing recommendations and amazing references from people I had gone above and beyond to help out when they worked with me.

I’ll bounce.  I always do.