Doors That Open�

2003-10-31

I've never gotten flowers for leaving before. I don't know whether to feel flattered or insulted. Now, most of the time I choose paranoia, and would feel that they were glad that I was leaving. But I saw their faces the other day when I brought out my notes and told them what I had done to ensure that no balls would fall to the ground. Even though I wasn't there, one of the other admins would catch what I had tossed and add their task to the juggling act. They were impressed by the fact that I had notes. The three weeks notice didn't go un-noticed either. I'm gathering that's rather unusual for a temp. Or maybe just anyone working the kind of job I work.

Everyone there knows what's going on with my dad, though I only told one person. I knew what I was doing when I told who I told. I knew that it would get around the floor with a day or so. But I also knew I was going to be a space case for a great bit of the time I had left. I wanted someone to know why. But if you run around telling people your grandmother died and then tell people you dad has anounced he has cancer a couple of days later they think your the biggest flake in world. Especially when they took you out of the office on a stretcher barely a week before.

When I came in this morning there were flowers on my desk. A small, but nice, bouquet, with a short message of thanks for my help. It made me feel good about the time I took to write the thank you notes I'd written the day before. I tried to make sure they wouldn't get read before I left, but I wasn't sure of the mail schedule and all the admins got theirs before I left. I made sure that none of my managers did. I pick up and distribute their mail, after all. I picked up the notes I'd left before and after they had all left, put them back in the mail box.

Just before I left a couple of the admins came to my desk. We all started talking. Somehow it came up that I should offer to work part-time. I figured I had nothing to lose, so when my boss had a free moment, I offered. I told him that if they didn't find anyone right away that I would be happy to come and work part-time, as long as they could be flexible with my schedule. The other admins told me to say that I had spoken with them and they were agreeable to the idea. One of the other admins, still standing by my desk, said that my manager's eyes had lighted up as I spoke. I laughed at the thought and she went back to her desk and I went back to the hour of work I had left. Then my manager, as he left for the day, said, "Make sure to leave your number, or your agency's number with me before I leave." I was surprised.

On another track entirely, on the way to work today I saw a sign in a neighborhood small store "Help Wanted." It's an artsy-craftsy kind of home decoration place, but it's maybe a couple of hundred yards from my front door. And I know small businesses. I know the kind of work they need and the kind of money they pay. But I could deal. It would be work. It would be close to home. It would be something I really know how to do well. So as I drove home for lunch I picked up an application, and as I drove back to work I dropped it off.

Here's looking for the doors that open.