She’s Just Not That Into You

Thanks for waiting over the weekend guys, here’s the news -
and also my submission for the 20SB February Blog Carnival!

Dear Work,

It’s not you, it’s me. I mean, of course you had something to do with it, but it’s mostly me.

You’ve been there for me this whole year, and I really appreciate it. You provided me with stability and kindness at a time when I really needed both. I was in a bad place before, and I needed out. I was working 60 hour weeks for no money, and as much fun as it was at times I couldn’t handle the stress. I didn’t even mind that you wanted to get involved so fast, it was hard giving one week’s notice, but for you it was completely worth it.

The truth is that I’m bored. I’m in an entry level position and no matter how hard I work – like when I learned accounts receivable, accounts payable, and payroll, and then ran finance for three months because you were in a hard spot – I just can’t gain any ground with you. You know that I’m committed, but I’ve had maybe one or two things on my to-do list for weeks. I’ve tried to get more involved but I’ve learned how to manage the workload to the point that I have mostly free time on my hands.

I spend so much time with you, I need to be engaged when we’re together. I don’t want to just zone out, I know that will hurt both of us in the end.

I know you like having me around. When the Big Bosses’ iPod breaks, I can fix it, I have you involved in social media now and I have a different perspective. I know. But I really can’t stay. I need more before I can settle down, I need training, challenges, escalating responsibility – I need to stretch myself first. You just don’t have the capacity for that – and that’s okay! That’s who you are, and it works for you. I mean, sure, maybe when I’m older there will be a chance for us to get back together and make something really beautiful happen, but not now.

This is what I will say. You have been flexible & accommodating. You have been kind & caring. You welcomed me in with open arms, you taught me some of the most fun Yiddish, French, and Dutch phrases I know, and you showed me a whole other side of theatre. You held me to an incredibly high artistic standard. You took my breath away every time the curtain opened on opening night. I know the shows are for children, but some of the most hauntingly beautiful images I have seen in my life were on your stage. You put songs in my head, and had me repeating lines from your shows like I was in university again! You taught me how season selection works, introduced me to amazing artists, and taught me how to correctly open a champagne bottle. You helped me develop friendships with the kind of women I want to be friends with when I’m in my forties.

I know when I gave you my notice you were sad, but you knew I wasn’t going to stay forever – you even joked about it with me over the past months. We both knew this day was coming. Let’s respect each other’s choices, and have a great two weeks. I promise I’ll be in touch, we can still be friends I swear.

But my new work? It just looks too good to pass up.

Keep my number, okay? I’ll come by for an opening night some time, I promise. I want to hear every detail of the March school tour, don’t leave anything out.

Love always,

Kyla