Numero Due! (Let’s see if I remember enough Italian to actually count to forty)
No more tough drop offs at daycare!
I realize that is isn’t exactly a positive thing about staying home it’s more of a negative thing about having to work and leave kids at daycare but since I had to leave a crying two-year-old today who had big fat tears falling down her cheeks you should really give me a break.
I’ve also decided to list forty reasons why I’m quitting my job (today will count for yesterday since it happened yesterday and is really probably five or six or more reasons why I need to quit). My mother, who is as wise as mothers come, said that I need to document all of my reasons for leaving so that after I’ve left and things get tough I have something to look at and remind me why I left in the first place. I said she was wise. So with everything positive thing about staying home, I’ll be posting something about why I’m leaving.
I’m leaving because I HATE (The obtuse capitalization is not an exaggeration) being abused by community members at my job. My job requires me to attend and organize several community meetings per month as well as regularly be available to address questions/concerns from community members, the public at large, developers, real estate agents, appraisers, et cetera. You get the picture. In my experience, working for the government paints a big red bullseye on your chest with a caption below that reads, “Please take out all of your anger, frustration, and general disappointment with the world, the nation, your city, and personal life on me. As a faithful public servant, I’m not allowed to fight back or really defend myself. I must stand here and listen to you, then politely provide a response if warranted.” I’ve had that bullseye on my chest for over six years now. It’s been about five and a half years too long. The reason I bring this up is yesterday I had one such community meeting, where I and a few other public servants attempted to hold a meeting to get input on something. People were rude, interrupted the speaker, got up in the middle of the meeting, and hurled insults on the work that had been done. To top it off at the end, one particularly cantankerous person came up to me and discussed how he was giving me a hard time. When I asked why, he replied, “Because you deserve it”. On that final note, why wouldn’t I leave?