Within the last week, I ended the longest romantic relationship I have ever had the pleasure of having, and within 24 hours lost my job. I knows it seems overly dramatic, and I'm not being defensive, but I think it's no small coincidence; after a lot of reflection, both needed to happen.
Although I liked my job enough, and was in stupid love with with ex...neither situation was healthy, and both things were probably...more convenient than practical. When my boss called me into her office, after being about 15 minutes late, since you know, the longest love of my love just told me he is moving away, well, DUH, I was fucking in shock.
Mind you, for the last 7+ months, I had no problem staying late with the manager(s) were counting money. Or filling in for sick/injured co-workers. But apparently getting my heart ripped out of my chest wasn't enough of an "excuse" for being a bit late. So I signed the papers and left as soon as I could. And what's worse is I have to go back this week to get my final check. Sigh.
I knew the deal, about both things when I signed up; dating someone in recovery, and working at a insanely busy bar at the same time probably wasn't the best idea. I handled both as best I fucking could. But everyone has their breaking point. And I found mine.
It's actually perfect timing that my roommate is away, visiting her family in Europe. I needed this time alone, to adjust, get my mind together, etc. And I have had some fun. Both with my friend out on the town, and got laid twice this week. But mostly I have kept to myself. Mostly I have been drinking beer, smoking cigarettes and wandering around with my hoodie pulled up.
It's a certainty I will get over this, meet a new guy, and find a new job. For now I am glad I have a home, good friends, enough funds to pay the bills, oh and I got a man/pedi today! I treated myself. Why not. And this shit weather is about to pass, so I am optimistic about the upcoming week.