So I was thinking about my post from yesterday about the BOSSES FROM HELL and how one should always do good things because good things come in return as opposed to bad things because, well, you get it. So I'm in the shower, and barely coherent, and the feelings of impending doom start in. Because I am irrational and maybe insecure and I get feelings of impending doom all the time. And you know what's scary? I'm usually right.
Right. Because the BOSSES FROM HELL did bad things and so they should, in theory, get bad things in return. And as wrong and un-PC of me as it is to say, that makes me feel happy. And also vindicated. But then it dawns on me... I did a bad thing! Very bad!
So I told ya'll a little bit about Mrs. J. If you haven't read it, go read yesterday's post. It's okay, I'll wait.
Good. Okay so we can pretty much agree that she was a BOSS FROM HELL, right? Well now let me explain to you a little about the "Southern Way". I tend to always try to see the positive in every situation, always make excuses for people because they couldn't possibly have meant to be mean, and am generally easy-going, sane and rational. See also Door Mat, but I digress. Because all those things above? That's the "Southern Way".
But you know what happens to good little southern girls when they have had enough?? One un-ethical transaction too many, one screaming temper tantrum from lunatic boss too much? We panic. And we start to want to escape, run away, hide, etc... Because while I can make a mean mint julep and am a fantastic hostess (IMHO) I CAN NOT deal with confrontation. Nope. Blinding panic ya'll. Confrontation is NOT the "Southern Way".
So I resigned from my position via fax. Yep. I did. While the BOSS FROM HELL was on vacation no less. Yep. Did that too. This also being the boss with the horrible illness (and yes I know what it was - I'm trying to be somewhat nice here). Yep. So bring on the feelings of impending doom.
Now in my defense I did clean out all of my files, organize and label everything, finally do all the stacks of filing that had been gathering, typed up detailed instructions on how to do EVERYTHING I knew how to do, left lists of passwords and websites we used and generally tried to make it as easy as possible for the poor person who was going to have to come in once the proverbial shit had hit the fan.
But all that above? It doesn't really assuage the guilt. Or the feelings of impending doom. Nope. Because Karma? I heard it's a bitch.