08
Aug

Death by Cubicle (addendum to conclusion)

***This seems to have been partially eaten by my blog….it was in a strange order.  So, I’ve re-posted to correct.)***

“What are your plans with Target?” asked the blonde haired, tall woman who was the boss of my boss.

My heart was in my mouth.  I’d just told my manager, Dave, a few weeks ago, “you know, if you weren’t such an ass hole, you really wouldn’t need me.”  He turned PURPLE.  
I was TRL for Target, which is their speak for “Team Relations Leader”, a coveted “executive” position at store level, clearly being groomed for greater things.  Think human resource manager.  Maybe putting my boss’ ass-holeness out there for him to see wasn’t such a good idea?
“Um, I know I can be a bit direct.   But, why do you ask?”
“Well, we LOVE you.  DAVE loves you.  He says you are the only one who doesn’t suck up to him.  He says you should be fast tracked.  We are here to make that happen — if that’s what you want.”
I’d just returned from my trip to Ground Zero.  I just witnessed the destruction, devastation, horror that was the catastrophe of the World Trade Center.  All I could think of were those people in those towers,  working at jobs they may not have loved, and 
Poof
Gone.  Their lives ended.  I had made up my mind not to do that.  Not to be one of those people who looks back on his life and thinks, “Would of, should of, could of.”  Not to have my life end in a pile of rubble that consisted of 3 million cubicles that collapsed on top of my head.
“So, where are you?” the District Team Leader asked, “suddenly you are a million miles away.”
“Ummm,” I said, “Ummm, I actually don’t think I’m going to stick around.  I LIKE working for Target, I really do.  I like my team.  But, well, I kinda had an epiphany this past week.  I am going to join my mother’s business.  She needs help; she’s a photographer.  Technology is changing — fast — and I want to be a part of it.  But I’m not sure it will work.  So, I will give you 3 months notice.  I will hire my own replacement.  I’ll train her.  But then, if I find that whole “photography thing” doesn’t work, you will hire me back.  Deal?”
“Deal.”  
The TRL I hired still works for Target.  She loves it.  They love her.
And I know I will never be crushed to death by a pile of cubicles.  That photography thing?  It’s worked out.
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