It was time.
Anyone who knows me, or Facebook stalks me, or by some off-chance reads this blog, knows that if there is anything true and real about Lisa Zine, it is that I hate working at ICM.
For the last few months of my downward spiral into Administrative Disillusionment I have done little else besides complain at length to my friends and family.* After a tedious heart-to-heart with my boss (which mind you, is made exponentially more difficult when the other party lacks said "heart") I did what I could to make this shitty job work.
I tried running in the mornings.
I started my blog.
I drank a lot of red wine alone on the couch watching The Office on DVD.
One afternoon I even tried taking my frustration out on a blank canvas, which was a bad idea. The end result was an 16 x 20 inch purple piece of vomit I wouldn't wish on even the tackiest of STD-laden motel rooms. I guess that's what's been going on in my head. Meaningless, purple STD vomit.
Fucking, self expression man...
For anyone who has ever quit anything (smoking, relationships, sex vacations with your gay cowboy lover), you know just how painful the proverbial bandaid-rip can be. Disappointing people is hard, no matter how much you wish they would stop existing. But I did it, and you can all thank me for it later.
Actually I have no idea why you would thank me. Never mind.
Right now my soon-to-be-former boss is interviewing a potential replacement. Lucky for me the door is shut, but I can hear the dialogue...in my head:
Boss: "My little bitch assistant is leaving me and I'm throwing a shitfit."
New Kid: "Oh. Ok. Well can I have her old job?"
Boss: "Yeah. I guess I don't have a choice."
New Kid: "Cool. Thanks."
Besides the time I had to force myself to stave-off a Baja Fresh assplosion so I could avoid having to make a pit-stop in Inglewood, this may be the most uncomfortable I've ever been. But the truth is, this too shall pass.
Before too long, I'll be free from the hellish reality that is my first poorly-made career choice, hopefully it's not one of many, and with any luck my life will get markedly better.
Until then, I'm going to continue to run in the mornings. I will continue to blog. And I will
definitely continue to drink lots and lots of red wine.
And as a parting gift, I'll give my boss the purple vomit.
*Guys, I'm sorry. I had to. It was better than keeping up with the drinking.