story of my life

My (old) job, for a long time now, was like reliving the beginning of Rumplestiltskin over and over again.
I’ve felt like the miller’s daughter, being locked in a room with piles and piles of straw and told to turn it into gold. And everyday, by hook or by crook, I managed to get it done. I went home tired, sore, and frustrated every single day. And then the next day would come and I’d have to do it all over again, and the person shoveling the straw onto me everyday was… well, I’ll keep all that private for now, but I’ll just say, psycho.

To know I don’t even have to go back into that place and wear myself out again is such a huge relief I still can’t even completely comprehend it. I think to myself, God, I have to go to work tomorrow – then I remember it’s not that work, and I don’t ever have to break my back to turn straw into gold for that shitty company ever again.

Don’t want to sound like I’m bitching, because I’m so incredibly stoked! The relief is just overwhelming.

Comments
  • Chase

    So stoked for you as well!