All these feels.
That’s the best way to summarize my life these past weeks.
I decided to quit my job after finally realizing my bitch of a boss had no intention whatsoever of supporting me, of supporting my career path. So, after careful thought – because I’m a cold and conniving bitch – I decided to do it. Of course I haven’t done it yet. I have picked the best date possible to do so: The day before my boss’s birthday.
Yeah, I am that kind of person.
I didn’t actually decide to do it then for that particular reason but, whatever. Point is, I’m quitting.
Ever since I made up my mind, I haven’t given a fuck about work at all. Of course I still do what I have to do, but with zero involvement, no added value, no proactivity, no nothing. I decided to just let life happen, and fuck me if it hasn’t been great! After I stopped worrying about things and began minding my own business, not solving other people’s problems, not trying to have the best relationship with my account contacts, not going to extreme lengths to please my boss, etc., I was actually able to enjoy my life at work.
I dare even say that I have been thoroughly happy these past weeks, even with my asshole co-workers around. Yes, this feeling has been great.
I was also pretty fucking happy because my boyfriend was finally moving back to Mexico and we would spend what was left of our time together. Hell, I was even planning on becoming the proud owner of a pug. Yes, the thought of living life as a couple also kept me going. It kept me going even though I was pretty damn sure it would last less than Kim Kardashian’s 72 days long marriage.
Because I was also done with my MBA applications and I was 80% certain I would be accepted to the business schools I had applied for. So, yeah, there were some major changes ahead and I wasn’t oblivious to them. But I didn’t care. I felt like I could really be happy, if only for a few months.
Then everything went to shit. Well, actually, it is [about to go / already going] down the drain.
I haven’t had all my applications results back yet but I have already been rejected once. Not the best news, really. Especially when that was the best business school I could had hoped for. Yeah, not great news, but I was holding up. But now I’ve just hung up with my boyfriend after his great job interview which he surely passed. I’m ecstatic for him, because that means he’s going to have a better job, live in a better city and have a better life overall. But I can’t kick away the feeling that that life does not include me at all.
How ironic, seriously. Two weeks ago, I was certain that I would be the one leaving him, jumping on a plane and pursuing my dream. And I didn’t care. Now it is him who’s leaving and me who’s staying and I feel like shit. And I know this is how he’s felt for the past five months. And I don’t know how he managed to keep up and support me in spite of how painful that was for him.
And now it’s my turn to be the bigger person for him.
Now it is me who’s smiling and encouraging him to go. Now it is me who bawls his eyes out as soon as I’m left alone.
Now it is me who’s going through hell and I fucking hate it.