Currently Cubeless: Diary of the Unemployed

Unemployed success or failure signsWell, anti-cubicle fans, I am officially unemployed. Please, hold your applause.

My doctor finally released me back to work after a hand surgery and my employer said they didn’t have any open positions for me in their local office. If, by chance, you are feeling even slightly jealous of me for beating some cubicle system, or thinking it unfair that I escaped the cubicle and still blog about cubeland (I mean, how can I write about getting out of the corporate cubicle world if I’m not even there, right?) – DON’T. It’s no picnic. Truthfully, I’m feeling pretty down about it. I thought I would feel happy to be finally rid of my not-so-nice insanely impatient boss and relieved not to have the HR lady ask me why it took me 5 minutes to go to the bathroom rather than 3, but I don’t. I feel strange and it’s difficult to articulate. I guess I feel hurt that they don’t value me as an employee and scared not knowing what my future holds. And yes, a small part of me feels relieved. Not having to feel inadequate everyday is nice but being unemployed comes with its own anxiety.

I worked my you-know-what off for them. In fact, I have never had a harder job and sweated so much to impress an employer. Unfortunately, it was never good enough. I have always felt valued as an employee in previous jobs and knew I was “liked.” But this place just didn’t seem to appreciate what I had to offer. They are a fairly good-sized company and I know they could find work for me if they wanted to. The blatant truth is: they just don’t want me. Fine. I didn’t want them in the first place. <sticks tongue out>

Well, to be fair, I am leaving out an important detail. They did offer me a part-time position with less pay in another state which is just under 1.5 hours each way for me to travel (without any traffic). Awww, my eyes are welling up with tears over their generosity.

Cue Sally Field: They like me, they really like me!

Let’s get real, folks. If you want me, you’re not going to ship me off to another state and expect me to fund my gas-guzzling vehicle just to spend half my day driving to your your demotion in salary, work hours, and job description. Sigh.

Deep breath. Yes, I feel better now. Thanks for letting me lie down on your psychiatric couch.

Do not fret. I am still here. I will be looking for work – yes, probably another &%$!&*@ cubicle job. And, in spite of looking for another gray-celled 8-5 home, I will still be scratching and clawing my way out corporate cubicle hell right here with you!

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