Dear Mrsatroxi,

Work.

Work hasn’t been the best part of my life in, well, never. I don’t like working. I don’t like taking orders from other people, I don’t like having to get up at a certain time, I don’t like wearing clothes based on what other people like, I don’t like having to ask somebody for things I feel are my due, and I don’t like making a rich man richer. I am internally stubborn, though. I am very very good at doing things I hate. Except for having to call out a bit for these damn headaches, I’m generally described as a model employee, a great worker. I’ve gotten every job I’ve ever interviewed for. I’m a good actress, a damn fine bullshitter, and I can hide my feelings with the best of them.

The tiny office I work for is closing, swallowed up by a very large office. I have a job in this very large office, and I’m trying very hard to stay positive and not fear change, but it’s becoming more and more difficult for me. The more I find out, the more I meet with the new boss, the more my sinking feeling grows. It’s not even for something specific, I can’t put my finger on something and say, “This. This is what has me spooked.” It’s a general feeling of dread, an anxiety deep in my tummy. Something that would not allow me to sleep last night.

It’s hard to understand, because I’ve been trying to view this as an opportunity ever since I found out about it. Something to put on a resume if nothing else.

Instead it’s starting to feel more and more like I have to choose between the lady or the tiger.

As a little side note, go see Juno.

A movie featuring teens that’s touching and truly funny, without a drop of angst.

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