Just 10 days til I quit my hellish lil job. I'll give notice (a whole 2-weeks notice, generous me...) on the 19th. Nevermind that they'll have the two weeks around the holidays to replace me. They're too feckin lazy to do it at anytime, so the holidays shouldn't be an excuse.
I'd actually considered giving them notice a bit sooner, you know, longer than 2 weeks, but mom reminded me what happened the last time I found that sort of kindness in my heart. I gave a previous employer almost a month notice, and they immediately cut my hours. Thanks, but no thanks. I've got to look out for me.
On that note, I've found two jobs to sort of pursue. One has an application that is waayyy thick. Communications Operator. For a government office. Translation: dispatcher. Sounds like fun, but I'll first need to get together 5 (yes, five!) years of tax returns, my marriage certificate, my divorce decree..and several pages of references from my whole work history and the last 10 years of my personal life. Maybe if I'd spent a little more time sober it wouldn't be so daunting. Or who knows, maybe it'd be more daunting if I actually remembered where I'd been the last 10 years. Whatever.
The other potential is a midnights medical gig. Just need to find out how medical....and luckily I may already know the manager for this one through something else.
Fingers crossed, they both have pros and cons....doesn't everything.
Well, I've still got lots to get done tonight. One of the kitties is apparently peeved at me and crapped right next to my pillow. I refuse to give them the satisfaction of seeing me looking grossed out, especially since I don't even know which one did it. I'm just pretending that it was already on my schedule to change the sheets at 10pm on a Tuesday night. Yeah, that's the way I like it.