I’ve read and heard that you’re not supposed to write e.g. blog about work. I don’t like being censored, I’m not afraid, I’m still in my-job-doesn’t-define-me training and if you’re my future employer, hello. Not that I’m looking. Awe crap, look what I’ve up and done now.
That being said, I fired my “assistant” on Friday. Her title wasn’t My Assistant, it was actually Marketing Coordinator, or Developer, or Something Or Other. But when “it” need to roll downhill, 98.43% of the time, “it” rolled straight to her. She was my point-person. My #2. I had a year-and-a-half professional investment in her. I trained her one-on-one and she eventually took the majority of the production work off of my plate.
Against advisement I gave her chance after chance after chance. I wholeheartedly wanted her to succeed. She had other plans.
I had a hard time sleeping on Thursday night. It was a hard reality that I had to face. So hard in fact that it was sympathy card worthy by Elise. I came home on Friday night to a reaffirming card in my drawer.
My heart was in my throat all day Friday. I fired her that morning and had heartburn for the rest of the day. I don’t get heartburn often and when I do, it’s self inflicted by either 1) habanero hot wings or 2) firing someone that means something to me.
I think back of the time spent and all of the opportunities there and it just eats at me.
I’m going to go make hot wings.