How to quit your job, or try to, and fail.

I recently took a job as a temp at a place that I shall not name, but they make bricks you build shit out of.  I had, for a VERY long time thought that some "normal" type job would cure me of all of my failings as a drone, erase my desire to be a unicorn and I'd have a desk and some photos in frames and I'd drink coffee and stand around the water cooler and wax philosophic about last night's episode of The Big Bang Theory. 

I thought this because at age almost 50 I was still hoping the longing to join the circus and run away would leave me and I could settle down into some boring existence and life would somehow be easier for me. Alas, it was not meant to be. I had envisioned, me, at my desk saying,"Good Morning Jim!" "What's new Alicia?" "How bout those Mets!" and somehow I would be OK with that as though walking through the doors of a conglomerate would suddenly snap me into "adulthood" and my dreams would die a quiet death and I would happily drone away answering phone calls from six year olds and 40 somethings who live in their mom's basement asking how to build the Millennium Falcon. tm

Now in this conglomerate's defense, though their product is wholly toxic and non biodegradable and made from poison, as "The Man" goes I suppose it isn't the worst place in the world, but frankly, I'd rather clean the toilets there. 

It all began innocently enough.  A job fair, 3 interviews, lots of talk of Denmark and men with their jeans up too high and a belt.  A guy in the parking lot with tattoos and a Slayer t shirt.  I CAN DO THIS! Even though it is a 40 minute fucking drive and shit for pay and I won't even be able to pay my fucking bills but HEY! I CAN BE NORMAL FOR ONCE!!!!I CAN I CAN...I...cannot. 2.5 weeks in a room with no windows with eight twenty year olds and talking about the horrors of the newest Batman or Superman or someshit...and endless power point slides and high fives and fist bumps and I... I couldn't take it.  There are tests, you have to pass them, there are people, on the phone, you have to talk to them.  There are endless screens of boxes to fill in and numbers and and and and and and for a person with ADD/Anxiety/hypoglycemia/stickittothemaniosis/bunions/mold allergies/her period/more anxiety/bananas/full moon... I decided to jump ship. It was final test day today.  Test, boxes, numbers, FUCKING ACRONYMS UP THE ASSHOLE I couldn't breathe.  I called out... "I cannot come in" I said, "I know I cannot miss the test or any training so I know I will be terminated please let me know what I need to do, sign, do I need a brainwashing?" and I was HAPPY!!!!  I Went grocery shopping for a friend in need, I WENT TO YOGA! All was right in the world, except for that pesky no money thing but I WOULD FIGURE IT OUT!I WAS FREEE AGAIN TO JOIN THE CIRCUS!!! And then...what did they go and do... toss me a life raft. "Come back." They said.

FUCK!