In flight, far from the airport!

Drum roll please...

I FINALLY HAVE LEFT THE AIRPORT!!!!!

Yes, six years of drama has finally been completed - I am no longer employed at that bitch of a job. And I can say with confidence that although it has given me stability on a resume, and I put all my effort into that job, this move was long overdue.

"Fan reaction"? All positive, even from my father. One of the reasons I held onto the job for so long (and I've told him this) is that dad looked at me in a very disappointed light in 2000 when I left Calder's for the first time after just three months. It was one of those cases where I lit into the boss and left. He basically told me that wasn't the right way to do things. That is known fact; the way he presented it, however, stuck with me.

I wanted to prove him differently, and I believe I did. Dad worked in the same place for 30 years, though... I only put in six years at Spirit. But this day and age, a person's not going to last for 30 years in one location too often. The average person changes jobs over nine times in a lifetime. My dad had it good because he lived in a time where job security was virtually guaranteed. Times have changed, and I think between 2000 and now, he understands that.

Though he and I don't talk too much, his support still means a whole lot and always will.

But let's go ahead and set the stage for the final confrontation which happened last night:

I had an hour break between flights, so I figured I'd go chat with Lisa. I always scan the watch wherever I am and I'm always aware of where I'm supposed to be. Then, Dianne from baggage came to me and said the rampers were looking for me, that I'm supposed to be out there. What, 45 minutes before the plane? I bid Lisa adieu and went back out there.

Turns out they rotated crews and threw my crew on a new plane five minutes before it landed. If you're told you've got an hour break, what do you do? Some go to the concessions. Some go outside to smoke or walk around. I decide to talk to a friend. And whereas some crews miss people when flights are rescheduled, and don't complain about it... oh, when I'M missing, they virtually send TSA out to look for me. Doesn't this hearken to my July entry about management having it in for me?

What blame could I take? None, other than sincerely apologizing for missing this detail, though questioning why we only get five minutes' notice. I even had the two-way radio and heard nothing. But the gate lead wouldn't even give me a chance to explain and initiated a tirade that ended up being two workers shouting at each other. There's two sides to every story, and I wasn't being heard. A six-year worker against a two-year worker should have some pull for me.

Guess not.

The supervisor was working the flight, and after the argument, I told him I was finally done due to this blatant disrespect. He told me to write a letter of intent, and after the flight was offloaded, I did so. He fired it off to the station manager and I went on my business, not telling anyone what I'd done (a two-week notice).

Hearken the July entry again: Finishing up the last flight, I was told to come into the supervisor's office, where the supervisor told me of the reply from the station manager: I would get the two weeks' severance pay, but that I would not be working for it. In other words, I would be paid to stay home.

Lol, I really loved that idea, and at the same time my mind was satisfied and at peace, knowing that six years of saying they had it in for me was true, after all. What a bunch of peons. They escorted me out, took my equipment, wished me luck, and closed the door behind me.

THANK GOD! That's all I can say. And here I am, making this entry, shaking a little in the legs, realizing not only the actual decision to leave was made, but the scope of how important it will be to me, given everything that's happened since 2001.

I look forward to the disintegration of Spirit Airlines in the forthcoming years, especially with me not there. I wasn't prepared to be the anchor of the sinking ship in this instance. And I won't be.

Mid-August: an update

Thought I'd log on real fast (on my sixth anniversary of my hiring at Spirit) to let you know everything is still the status quo at work. It's getting harder to walk around and I find I'm doing things at a much slower pace than even I'm used to, but the work's getting done nonetheless.

I'm still devoting too much time to sleeping, I think. Sleep patterns are still scattered and my dreams are more warped than ever. They always have been, and no one knows why. The most annoying thing that happens in every dream I have, is that I can be anywhere, doing anything, and all of a sudden a taxiing plane crosses my path in much the same way a black cat can cross your path. All of a sudden, I find myself wearing a uniform and doing some menial airline task.

Sheesh, I do one better than bring my work home with me: I bring it into my DREAMS.

My housekeeping skills are suffering. You should have seen when I lived at my grandmother's in 2000. One basement flood aside, the place was as pristine while I was there as my grandmother kept it for years. You'd never know when I'd break out the vaccum and clean the carpet... 10 PM, 2 AM, it didn't really matter.

Now I'm starting to look at this house, and for the first time, its sheer size is getting to me. Seems pathetic when you consider this house is only 800 square feet, while my parents' was 1,700. Then again, at my parents' house, you had three people working to make sure things were in order. I'm cleaning for two as I may have said before -- and even Jenni's kids do more to try to help at their house than Steve does here. Mostly, it's been dirty dishes. Overall, it's becoming overall filth. In lieu of hiring a maid service, I wonder where the housecleaning help will come from.

The landlord likes us as tenants because, among other reasons, we do a great job keeping the place up. I hate to fall back on my reputation, but it's just getting too hard. At least at the apartment in Dearborn, I didn't have to worry about yardwork.

The car is still acting up the same way it was; I hate it when it stalls out of its own accord. However, I make it work by using it as solely a work car only. Seventeen miles round-trip per day plus a trip to the gas station every once in awhile is all I need it to do. If it works even seven times out of ten, consider myself fortunate.

And in trying to add some spice to my life, I find procrastination is getting in the way of that, too. The church festival (where I call bingo) is three weeks away, and I've found I've done little to try to get my name on the duty roster.

I wish for a different routine. This is the way it's been for six years. Is it just overt tolerance, or is it a fear of change, given the way this world is turning out lately? I wish I knew.

Motivation -- everywhere

Why am I sticking at that job even through all the crap that has happened?

One reason:

Here's my angel with her suddenly blonde hair... I like it.

But back to motivation: Everyone needs perks to succeed. Sports players do it with money. CEOs do it with severance packages, ha ha. I truly had no one on my side at that airline through all these years. Now, Jenni is giving me the strength and support I need to carry this thing through. Where it will all go and how long this latest injury-filled work time will last is known to no one.

But the real motivation is there for the first time. While not allowing myself to let myself down in the face of all the stupidity I've faced, I won't allow myself to let this lady down.

Geez, I only wish I could update this blog more frequently than I am...