There's a part of me that has always wanted to write out some of the stories that lay out just how truly horrendous life was when I worked at that place I used to work at. I never have because I figure that if you want to read about someone whining about work, you'll open Facebook. Besides, even though the stories I could tell are astounding, there's been a lingering worry that maaaaaaaybe it was me.
Maybe I was the problem.
You can argue that it's dumb to think that, but that's part of what happens when you have a boss who distorts the truth in amazing ways. You begin to doubt yourself. A LOT.
And then a year goes by and you find yourself leaving your daughter's dance recital to drive to Baltimore for a work thing and you get in at 2:30 am because RECITAL and you're okay with it. And then you get up a few hours later and go work alongside some really fantastic people and you work and you work and you work and suddenly you look around and realize this is fun.
It doesn't matter that you didn't get any sleep and it doesn't matter that you're working your tail off because you're with people who are right there with you.
That. That is when you figure out it wasn't you.
Anyway, I went to Baltimore for a few days. I barely saw the outdoors because all of the work needed to be done, but it was fine because it was fun. When I returned home, both girls acted as if it had been years instead of days, so basically I can't pry either one of them off of me.
It's kind of the best.
