Sunday 2 January 2022

A Tad Stressed.

Really what's bugging me most is that I already know I've 99% decided not to stay in this job, I just can't calculate when I can afford to leave and how much I can put up with and for how long. Also, I don't know what to tell them as my reason. Pain? Boredom? Fear? Or just a general non-committal "I don't think this is the right fit for me"? I am also gutless, in that I decided to tell them but only got as far as a general chat about the direction for my role, which of course meant they reassured me and made me feel like it was too mean to leave just yet.

And then the following day they've Made Moves™, arranged someone to mentor me for several weeks, and now it'd be just so incredibly rude for me to jump ship. My feet are killing me (this is not new, but the pain is so all-consuming that it just keeps floating to the top of my consciousness). The only reason I haven't #painquit already is some vague hope that if I would just lose a bit of weight I would not be in such agony, and therefore, quitting because my feet hurt would be stupid?

Adding to my stress levels is the dead hot water cylinder. There's also a leak somewhere, probably me (but 4m away so completely unsure) and I will need to get a plumber in. Except, they're unavailable or not getting back to me. Great timing.

AND THEN! Positive lateral flow test, cough, fever. PCR is booked for tomorrow and it's an hour away. Does it get better than this?

Maybe. After my isolation to get over this stupid Covid, maybe I'll just not go back.

No comments:

Post a Comment