Malaise

The title of this blog used to be something like: Bleach Cocktails for Dinner. Something that has to with drinking bleach or some such nonsense. I was pretty angry and unhappy with my job. Come to think of it, that hasn't necessarily changed. But I am more in the "resigned" column than angry column. Except when I am PMSing. Then all bets are off.

The director I reference here quit recently and we hired a new guy. The jury is still out on the new guy. But I haven't felt anything soul-crushing since old douche director left so I didn't bother finishing this one out.

With the title of this little-known blog, it is not shocking that I seem to be in a constant state of unhappiness. It varies of course, some days are just fine while other's possess a soul-crushing, I-need-to-get-the-fuck-out-of-here sentiment.

Today is one of those days.

I am still reeling from the little tete-a-tete I had with my account director who continually needs to ask me if " [I] want to be here" and "why do I want to be here." Frankly why the fact that I show up, foster good relationships with my clients and work my ass off is not proof enough blows my mind. I get the distinct feeling that it is not anything I do but rather the account director doing a bit of projecting. He doesn't want me on his team; he doesn't want me here; he doesn't think I am good enough. And no, this isn't an all out whine of nobody likes me. Quite the contrary, most people I work with have no issue with me or my job performance.