good things come to those who complain

For the past six months I’ve been bitching and complaining about my job. In case you missed it, here’s how it breaks down: short-staffing + company growing pains + insane hours + meager pay = unhappiness. Ergo, bitching and complaining.

Well, like any grown up, I told my mom. And she told her friend, who told her boss, who was looking for someone to do a job I can totally do, so I sent in my resume and went in for an interview. Turns out I didn’t suck, because they made me an offer. For a great position. With awesome benefits. And a great salary—over 60% more than what I’m scraping out at my current job. So this week I strapped on the glass slipper, handed in my resignation and in two weeks I will officially rise above the poverty line. I’m relieved, elated, excited—and slightly discomfited by the fact that my mom got me this job, however indirectly.

It reminds me of the last scene in My Cousin Vinny when Marisa Tomei and Joe Pesci are driving off into the sunset. Vinny complains about his inability to win his first case without help and his supportive fiancee Mona sarcastically laments the fact that the only way he might become a successful lawyer is with other people’s help. “And then you’ll have to say ‘thank you’! Oh my GOD! What a fuckin’ NIGHTMARE!” This seems to sum it up perfectly. So I’ve decided I’m just going to keep track of my good karma and pay it back to some poor, overworked kid someday when I’m rich and fabulous, and in a position to hand out jobs like Halloween candy.