Faux pas at dead end job could be cue to job hunt

There are times in your life when you make a move so stupid you feel like somehow turning back the clock and screaming at yourself not to open that door as if you're in a bad horror film. For me, my worst situations have always revolved around work. Sometimes I wonder if I was an executioner in a past life and am paying the karmic price.

I should probably back up. I was in a dead end job for way too long. The only pluses of the job were its location (around the corner from my house) and the long stretches of downtime where I launched and ran my side business. But wasn't I destined for more? Wasn't I wasting my God-given talents at this soul-sucking place? Apparently not, but who doesn't think she's special?

I found myself interviewing at a well-regarded events company. The people I met all seemed nice enough, but they kept bringing up their "collaborative process." I never could figure out quite what they were talking about and that little voice inside my head was telling me to proceed with caution.

I have a hard time saying no, and this spills over into the interview process where regardless of how many red flags come up, once someone wants to hire me I feel compelled to take the job. Plus, the company actually switched their health plan around so it wouldn't be so expensive for me to insure my family. How could I decline?

When I started I was met with unbridled enthusiasm. These event planners could barely contain their glee when discussing upcoming projects. I actually heard someone say "Is this not the coolest company or what?" and she wasn't being sarcastic. My first day was a staff meeting day. It turned out that employees took turns leading staff meetings and were responsible for coming up with an activity or a game to begin the proceedings. A game? Was I being Punk'd?

It was close to Thanksgiving, so the activity was to throw a ball of string to a co-worker and share why you were thankful for that person. I looked at the bright and shining faces around me and knew I did not belong. When I learned that at the end of staff meetings names were randomly drawn from a hat and the person had to present a "fresh" idea, I started having an out of body experience.

You see, although I am in marketing I'm far more comfortable toiling in the background. If you want someone to write a press release, push a project through, or stay on top of deadlines, I'm your girl. But if you want someone to leap up during a meeting to write ideas on a dry erase board or be the driving force through a two-hour brainstorming meeting, it's just not going to happen.

I would sit through endless, agonizing meetings trying to think of something to say. The less I participated, the more nervous I got. And of course the more nervous I got, the less I participated. Even the looming staff meeting I'd have to lead was giving me hives.

On top of it, I couldn't seem to find the office buddy who would commiserate with me. My conversations never seemed to go beyond small talk. Once I heard two women talking about how they had just passed their six-month mark and how glad they were to have the six months behind them.

Sensing an opening, I eagerly thrust myself into the conversation and said, "So you've had those 'Get me the Hell out of here moments too?' " To which they cocked their heads, looked at me and said "No. Why have you?" "Of course not!" I replied as I quickly retreated into my office.

Now this whole time while I was floundering I thought about quitting, but decided to stick it out for a year. A little after my three-month anniversary my boss came into my office, shut the door, settled into the seat across from me, and asked "How do you think things are going?" Dear reader, things were going worse than I thought. She asked me to stay until the end of the month to finish my projects.

My last weeks at the company were a bizarre existence. Only top management knew I had been canned, and were almost tender toward me as if now that the relationship was over they could look back on the good times. In fact, at times they seemed to forget I was leaving.

"Should I be listed as the contact for this press release?" I'd ask and they'd look at me quizzically, or they'd solicit my opinion for some strategy they had for a project that would happen after I'd be gone. "Fired!" I'd think to myself, "Don't you remember?! I'm fired!!"

And they still wanted me to lead the staff meeting that was scheduled for the day before I left. My husband suggested Hangman as my activity. But of course in the end I didn't do anything that drastic. Somewhere between the accounting news and facilities report, I said that I was leaving. It was even reflected in the meeting minutes as a bullet, "Amy leaving. Wishes everyone well."

My crash and burn was tough to explain to the woman at unemployment when she interviewed me to determine why I had been fired. When I tried to explain about my lack of participation and personality mismatch she kept coming back with questions.

"Were you late?"

"No."

"Did you try your best?"

"Yes."

Finally in consternation she said, "You know I could call your company and I'll find out if you went postal or something." She just didn't believe me.

And here I sit still figuring things out. Maybe this workplace disaster has finally settled my karmic debt. And on the bright side, at least I don't have to act like I'm on a game show anymore.

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