For the first time in eight months, I’m ready for a vacation. Not that I’m not enjoying the new job (you can only enjoy training so much), but after years of isolation and stress, I’m ready to go somewhere else. Last time, I had no relief from the insanity; this time, I don’t work for the insanity anymore, so that’s a win.

The bad news is no pay for this one. The good news is… vacation.

Target: 1000 words
Written: 555 words, novella: The Mungk


That’s what I’ve been told I am. But my internal panic has reached epic proportions and honestly, a little help and hand-holding would be nice. I know it’s just early job jitters, but I find myself asking if I’ve made the right choice.

The pension is worthwhile, at least to do my best and give it until I’m doing the actual work before I make any major decisions. A pension is a hell of a difficult thing to walk away from, especially when I’m still young enough for it to mean something.

And it’s not like I’m underqualified or incapable of doing the work. I look at the people they’ve got working there that I know and I think, I’m at least as capable as these guys. I hope.

My mental sharpness has taken a serious dip from the stress and depression the last few years, and my physical health is on the decline.

One day at a time, I suppose.

Target: 1000 words
Written: 422 words, novella: The Mungk

saturday morning frustration

Oh. My. God.

Fuck you, universe. What the fuck are you doing to me? All I wanted was a reduction of stress and some time to myself, and you’re doubling down on driving me insane. What the hell is wrong with you? No sleep. No time. Not even a single moment’s rest.

Is there a solution? What the hell am I supposed to do? Move to the Great White North and live in a remote cabin on my own?

Honestly, starting to sound pretty good right about now.

Target: 1000 words
Written: 2275 words, novella: The Mungk

no time

Okay, maybe this isn’t cool. I’ve lost my lunches. I’ve lost my time before work. I’ve lost my time after work. I’m having to sit on the can at the end of the day to read five pages in silence. Please, for the love of sanity, give me some GODDAMN TIME TO MYSELF.

I’m going to scream. This was supposed to make things better. Instead, thusfar, they’re infinitely worse.

Target: 1000 words
Written: 398 words, novella: The Mungk

last… fucking… day

Complicated feelings. On one hand, absolute bliss, an heady gleefulness that makes me want to giggle uncontrollably. On the other, guilt, for leaving them in the lurch, for shirking off my responsibility to our customers, and nervousness, about what comes next.

As my wife reminded me though, I’ve no reason to feel bad about leaving. This company has not been kind to me, and over the past few years, having to fight the urge to swerve into oncoming traffic on the way to the office or walk out in disgust and put my family’s financial future at risk has been a daily fight.

And I’m tired of being stressed out, depressed, angry and suicidal. I needed them to fire those bigoted, petty, undeserved ego-driven pieces of shit back in March and they did, but I know it wasn’t their lies or laziness or petty grievances. It wasn’t their misogyny, racism or Trump-loving anti-vax nonsense. It wasn’t the constant abuse or threats of violence. The sole reason this company fired those assholes is because they tried to go over the boss’ head to the CEO. That bruised the boss’ ego and the other stuff just gave him a convenient excuse. Had they never done that, they’d still be here, and we’d all still be suffering while management looked the other way.

And in the wake of that, did they then get me the help that I needed? I was clear with them – I had no desire to be an IT person anymore. I hated IT, and I wanted to move into a more administrative position. They ignored that. I said in a temporary capacity, as a stopgap solution, for a few weeks or a month, I could keep things running until they found a proper network guy. They never bothered, and instead combined five jobs into one and got me the minimal amount of help possible (someone who could never do what I do), and they took a month and a half to do even that, after initially questioning whether they needed to at all. Meanwhile, I was on the clock 24/7, and killing myself.

When this opportunity came up, I jumped at the chance. It was a better job all the way around, even if I liked this one. Why wouldn’t I take it?

Now that I’m leaving, they’ve spent the last ten days trying to make me work around the clock again, FOR FREE, ignoring my attempts to create actual documentation, which they will need, on how to do all of the things the new people will need to know. Instead, they want me to fix monitors or have pointless meetings or draw network maps. Oh, did I get a network map when this was dumped in my lap? Of course not. And they posted my job at twenty grand more than they were willing to offer me to boot.

And why do they not care about documentation? They’ve repeatedly said over the last week that they’ll just call me if they need anything. I keep telling them that’s not going to happen, but apparently, in their minds, they think they can keep me working for them, for free, even though I quit and have moved on to a different job.

So why do I feel guilty about leaving? I really shouldn’t. This job has been nothing but abusive almost from the start, and only got worse over the years. When they finally fired those idiots (again, over the bruised ego of the boss, and not because we begged for months and provided more reason to fire with cause than you could shake a stick at. Seriously, I tell other people the crap these guys pulled and they’re flabbergasted that they weren’t fired, or even jailed, years ago), I decided to buckle down, make the attempt and see how serious these guys were about building anew with me. Instead, they completely hung me out to dry. And now, they want me to continue to be at their beck and call, for nothing?

I wouldn’t even do it if they paid me, and believe me, I thought long and hard about asking for a consulting fee to do that. But this is the kind of company that would look at me and say, “Why pay him? He hasn’t got enough money to take us on in court.” I’m fully convinced they’d agree to it and stiff me.

I’m trying to go out the right way. Not to burn bridges, and to go out with graciousness. But these people have never understood boundaries, they’ve never supported their people and they just don’t get it.

Maybe instead of telling people that they shouldn’t burn bridges with the companies they’re leaving, the companies they’re leaving should be trying not to burn bridges with the employees on their way out. This economy is fucked, that a company is so fucking entitled that they believe they still have any claim to you after you’re fucking gone.

So, instead, I say goodbye and good riddance. Don’t call me. You’re like a crazy ex that won’t go away and won’t leave me alone. We’re through. Don’t make me get a restraining order.

Target: 1000 words
Written: 1951 words, novella: The Mungk


These last few days are going brutally slow. I’m busy writing documentation for my successor and trying not to get sucked into any rabbit holes, of which there are many, but even with that level of tasks, I can’t help but feel the days are crawling by.

Anticipation is a real pain in the ass.

A friend of mine who was also hired to the same place finished her day yesterday with tears and drinks with coworkers. I’ve ended each successive day with a loud whoop in the car as I peel out of the parking lot. Not that I dislike my coworkers – most of them are okay, but we’ve been through so much shared abuse, it’s almost like the end of a traumatic disorder. Carrying it on by having dinner with them seems cruel and unnecessary to me.

It’s like a break-up. I want to split and move on, and only have to deal with the technical aspects I absolutely have to, like giving back clothes and such. The rest is processing, release and hopefully, eventually, forgiveness (but not forgetfulness; I’ve learned valuable lessons here about what is and isn’t acceptable behaviour to tolerate and those cannot be left behind. There’s no tacit approval of behaviour in forgiveness. That’s done for us, so we can let go and move on.)

Target: 1000 words
Written: 2742 words, novella: The Mungk


Sure seems like I’m always jumping through them, and my legs are getting tired. Is anything easy?

That’s what I’m aiming for – easy.

Easy life, easy people in that life. Not saying no challenges ever, because challenges are engaging, which makes them feel easy (when not polluted by nonsense), but less conflict. Less unnecessary conflict.

Stress will kill me. Of that, I’m sure. Whatever the ultimate symptoms or official cause, be assured, depression and stress are the true culprits, and always will be.

Target: 1000 words
Written: 1118 words, novella: The Mungk