Picking up from last time –
I think it was my first Monday (and first full day) in my apartment, I was sitting in the living room during a lunch break lamenting my life, thinking about quitting – ‘cause I’d just started helping out with parties for a tobacco company. Uuuuugh. I know, right? I know!
I didn’t know what to do. I always knew I’d never work at a tobacco company. That’d be crazy. But to work at an event planning company, in a position in which I had no control over the clients they chose… Am I going to quit my job over the idea that I will not be a part of evil companies celebrating themselves? Or will I just book plane tickets, get the outdoor umbrellas and such, and try to block it out of my memory once we move on to a new client?
I’d just signed a lease. I didn’t want to throw away all the money to break the contract. I didn’t want to let down my roommate. I didn’t want to be poor again, if I could avoid it. I didn’t want to let down my friend who got me the job. I never wanted to ostracize myself from anyone in my network. I had so many stressful thoughts in my mind.
And my dad tried to talk me down. He said he didn’t think it was really wrong. All I was doing was booking stuff. And someone else would do that if I weren’t there. I wasn’t a part of selling tobacco to anyone, just helping plan parties. I questioned his reasoning as I didn’t want to be involved in tobacco in any way. But I felt trapped and sucked it up and went back to work.
And then, merely a day or two later, I was let go (not for any cool standing-up-for-my-morals reasons though).
And this is where I’ll pick up next time.