Done & Done

Today I woke up and didn't truly believe that today was my last day at PacSun. I got ready and headed out. Upon arrival, I realized that I whole heartedly despised working there. We got an e-mail message telling us to hang up the girls' tank tops from the front table and put some extra denim there instead. I began working on that and Sara got there at 11:00. I called our manager to see if I could leave at 2:00 and just do a half day and she would do a straight eight and she said, "No. I'm going out to lunch with our district manager and then I want to take a break later. So, no."

I understand that it sucks having to work eight straight hours, but knowing how much I was hating my job and how much I just wanted to leave as soon as possible, she selfishly choose to not let me leave early.

At this point I am furious. I am thinking of all the things I can say to her about how she drives me [and everyone else] crazy. Of course, I wouldn't do that because I'm too nice. So I decided that no matter what, I was leaving when she got there.

While still managing to muster up some kind of way to be productive, I saw our district manager walk in the door and approach me.

D.M.: Hey Miranda. What's going on? Why are you leaving?
Me: You know, there are lots of reasons. I am just sick of the stress and don't want to deal with it anymore.
D.M.: What do you mean?
Me: Well, it kind of sucks when we get a floorset, 20+ boxes of freight, and seven pages of markdowns in one day and I'm by myself in the morning for an hour after we open and after that it's two-part coverage all day long. It sucks having all this pressure to get everything done, have everything immaculate, and not have anyone to help out. It wasn't like this two years ago. I'm just sick of it.
D.M.: Is there anything else? Anyone in particular causing you to want leave?
Me: Mostly it's just because of the increase in workloads because of the stress. I just don't want to deal with it anymore. It also doesn't help when our manager adds to the stress with everything.
D.M.: What do you mean?
Me: She is just so emotional and makes it incredibly frustrating to work.
D.M.: Can you give me an example?
Me: Well, for instance, the last floorset we did where it was two nights' worth of work, she was there the second night and sat us down and took an hour to tell us about her trip to Mexico, which is fine I suppose, but nothing got done, and after that she did nothing but paperwork for the next few days. It's just frustrating when there is so much to get done and she doesn't help out. And just a bit ago, she wrote me up for having a negative attitude about having to work 40 hours instead of 32 and then not even a week later she comes crying to work a few days in a row. It just makes me incredibly frustrated working with her because she adds to the stress.
D.M.: Do you want to move to another store?
Me: No. I am just done.
D.M.: Okay. It is what it is.
Me: Yup.

She then goes out to lunch with our manager. They both come back at 1:20 and my manager tells me to "take my break." I tell her, "I'm just going to go home." She says, "We're going recruiting, so you have to take a break and stay."

They're going to go talk to managers at the outlet mall because I'm quitting, making me stay at the store while they basically go walking around and chit-chatting? Not cool with me. I grab my things and storm out.

On the phone, Andrew tells me to go back and give my manager the store key and tell her that I'm not coming back. I wanted to do this but it's not like me to do something like that. He said I would feel good if I did.

...he was right. I went in there and she asked me if I was leaving because of her. I said that it was more than that, but that she was indeed frustrating to work with. She told me that at lunch the district manager sat down and told her straight up that I am quitting solely because of her. After a brief talk, I left the store, key-free, and jobless.

And nothing has ever felt better.

Andrew and I went to Costco, bought lots and lots of goodies [including some "throw pillows" for my futon, which ended up being chair cushions but no one will ever know the difference], and went to Fred Meyer and bought even more goodies [including a sweet patterned rug]. We came home, I did the dishes and cleaned my room, and my folks arrived with my futon. After unloading it, we all went to Pizza Factory to have dinner where my sister works. We had salad and pizza and after some visiting came home. I put my rug and pillows where they belong, and here's the end result: