I Quit

A storm moved in tonight.

So this wasn’t something I planned. Ever since taking a part time job at an Assisted Living Facility it’s felt like an exploration into how I can be useful and of service. The retired life isn’t for me. If I can’t be productive in a meaningful way in my chosen profession, I was willing to be at the bottom rung, do the things no-one else wants to do for an entry into a brave new world. And just for the record, I’m not a quitter.

But from the very start I didn’t fit in. First of all, virtually everyone at that facility is an unskilled worker. They may be certified as a CNA or EMT but nobody there has a bachelors degree or higher. The R.N. is the top banana. And all are Hispanic women. They’re a tough, tight knit group and they went out of their way to ignore me, stonewall me and withhold the on-the-job training they were tasked to provide.

I told myself it was a form of hazing. You know, that mean-spirited thing fraternities and sororities do to the freshman pledges. But tonight crossed over into abuse. This I will not accept. So I handed over my keys to my shocked co-worker and made my exit. It’s a shame too because this spot gave me a much needed vision for the future.

But not all is lost. I no longer feel like crying. I call my own shots. The big takeaway for me is that I can’t be truly happy and probably never will be accepted at a lower level than I have achieved in life. If I am to pursue a second career in the healthcare industry it will have to be at the Masters level. Nothing else will do.

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