forgot about a simple twist of fate

second floor living without a yard

This picture actually better suits yesterday's post, but my camera was nowhere to be found in the abyss of my apartment. You'll note that these baked bits are placed in a plate far too fancy to be attributable to me. That's because LS gave it to me last time I saw her, apropos of nothing. The generosity, y'all. The generosity is killing me. For example, I have it on good authority that tonight a package awaits me upon my return home, and I also could bet big money that the package is from a fellow blogger. What have I done to deserve this? I guarantee you this- absolutely nothing, people, absolutely nothing.

Well, as usual, I have managed to create for myself a little drama where no drama was really necessary. I tend to blame this on the various double-lives I keep insisting on leading. Everyone is divided- people who know I blog, people who don't. People who have met me IRL, people who haven't. People who know about The Goal, people who don't. So much this corner and that corner, so many boundaries and lines drawn. It is only a matter of time before something goes awry.

Still, this is the strangest predicament I find myself in to date. And here it is. There is, let's say, a 50% chance I am going to get offered a promotion this week. Now, normally, believe it or not, I would neither anticipate this nor run it into the ground with hyper-analysis. Because normally someone offers you a promotion, you say, "gee thanks, does it come with a raise?" However, that canned response is inappropriate in my current situation. And as a result I am developing an ulcer.

Had this happened six months ago, I could have taken a promotion in good faith, without seeming like an immoral jerk. And believe me, I can be a borderline immoral jerk if the price is right- I work in Corporate America: if you aren't screwing them over, chances are, they're screwing you over. Borderline immoral jerkitude, fine- you know, as long as there is some moral ambiguity in there, okay, Corporate America, it's just a mild f*** you in your general direction. But taking a promotion, waiting less than three months for a bonus, and then saying, "sayonara, suckers!" is just not okay in my book. I'll feel dirty and wrong and I might have to spit at myself in the mirror every morning. Not just that- I'll feel I have burned all of my bridges. And as much as I never intend to return to my current position, I still don't believe in going out in such an ugly blaze of un-glory.

The problem is that coming clean and taking the high road is going to come at a price. A real, monetary price at a time when money is soon to become an imaginary number in my bank account. Man. This week is one hell of a classic test.

So, this is where I make history, and actually hope that the big meeting with the big boss leads to me being voted off the island. I might, just maybe might be the first person to be more worried over getting a promotion than getting fired.