The handwriting’s on the wall.

Or the voice.

It’s coming.

Sure as a doctor’s visit you may dread. Sure as the Thanksgiving feast you anticipate. Sure as the rain will fall tomorrow someplace in the world or the sun shine.

It’s coming. Can’t be stopped. The period at the end of this story. The closing of this chapter. The turning of the page.

It’s coming. I know that it is by the voice message this morning. From my boss, in his gentle, even, low-key tone. Nothing in the voice or content — a simple request for a callback — alerts to what is coming.

But I know. The end is here. I saw the ad for my job on craigslist three days ago.

How do I feel?  Isn’t that the question we normally ask ourselves or another   at the loss of a job or income?


This was a dream job. I worked hard, persistently and passionately, for a year for a foot in the door.

For the first year, year-and-a-half, I was like a pregnant lady. Glowing. Just to be there. Doing something I love. For a workplace I love/d. {part of me still does, always will.} For a community I love

Then it went south. The backstory: long and complicated. Reader’s Digest version: a coworker turned abusive toward me, singularly. With the need to stay silent; to inform the boss would cost me my job. Coworker’s seniority and skills outranked me.

And he was / is untouchable. The made man in the mob.

Even if management did believe the accounts of abuse … even if he did cop up to them instead of deny … they’d still keep him and let me go. He wears that aura of Untouchable well.

In fact, he’s a big bully. Perpetually saddled in his high horse. Good at his job most of the time. Long invested in the station and they in him.

At 2 years against his around 5, I can’t compete. Or survive the cut to dispel our “personal differences.”

And then there’s Stacy. Not her real name. The newest employee who arrived, coincidentally, at the same time stuff nosedived with the kingpin.

Those two buddied up as workmates. Two peas in the pod.

Again, more secrets. What the boss doesn’t know of is Stacy’s assault of me. It was verbal, right after she’d started there. Outside away from everyone’s ears but mine. It was terrible. Reportable.

But I held back. One, I didn’t think my boss would believe me. I saw how everyone in the office, including him, fawned over her. The Sycophantic Schmoozing Cunt. A phony self-serving cunt bitch who has everyone fooled. Except me.

Two-faced “always smiling always cheerful” bitch armed with a knife for the back of any one, primarily female, who got in her way in her climb to success.

And if I told anyone who she REALLY is, they’d laugh in my face, call me nuts, rally around her. I’d be the outcast in their circle of Lies and Facades.

Not a bad place to be, mind you, but not exactly conducive to harmonious work relationships either.

Her arrival altered the entire dynamic of the workplace. (We’re a small staff of a dozen so doesn’t take much.)

The Bully wanted me gone. The Cunt too.

And my boss hadn’t a clue! All he saw was “personality conflicts.”

If only … if only it had been so simple.

The abuse came in different forms, mostly from the made man. None of that matters now.

Well, that’s a lie. It does matter. It’s what triggered the landslide that I rode to the Exit. If not by my boss’s action, my own initiative.

The dream job turned into a nightmare. With no end in sight: save my employment.

My boss’s call this morning tells me Time’s Up. You’re being replaced by someone who can work with S. the kingpin.

I’m ready to let it go.

Perhaps I already have. I dunno. This job has been a part of my life — a significant part — for more than two years. A veritable lifetime for me!

Don’t know what it’s like NOT to go to the radio station every day of the week seven days a week, for an hour here, 6 hours there, 8 hours here.

What I don’t know is what it’s like to have both antagonists (bully and cunt) out of my life. To be free of their bullshit. His booming hostility and nuclear glares through the glass of the station booths that could melt butter in a second. Her manipulative bitch ways.


What I don’t know is: What will take the place of the radio station job. From perspective of both career and income.

I didn’t call my boss back. Not because of fear. I know what’s coming.

Instead, I’m going to stop by. Do this in person. My dream job deserves that.

Just two things left to do.

One, learn the final departure day.

Two, whether the bully, long involved in this conflict, will be staying. I assume so but there’s a small chance the station will cut their losses with him too.

Three, rewrite a draft letter to the boss of the incidences and colleague’s truly bad behavior that crossed both professional and personal lines and show disrespect to me as well as the station.

I can tell the story now that I’m leaving. Because whereas before I had something to lose — my job — now I’ve nothing to lose. And only one thing to gain.

Correction: Two.

  • The freedom to tell the truth
  • The opportunity to redream a  better dream job.

What better time than during a Mercury retrograde! The time of REs: rethink … redo … reconsider … review.

I’m REady to go. To let go. To be free and in gratitude for what was given to me: a job I loved for a good while. At a radio station I love/d.

Thank you thank you thank you.