Lock the keypad on your phone, please

As some of you know, last Monday was my last day at my former job. My reasons for leaving the job are many and varied, but the top of the list is that I was not a "good fit" for the work environment. That is to say, that the director of the organization, and her management style, and I were incompatible. There has been a lot of finger pointing and other blaming tactics, but the bottom line is that it is her organization and she needs to run it as she sees fit; and I do not need to stay somewhere if I feel uncomfortable. This is truly the most reasonable and no-fault way for me to encapsulate the troubles over the last year.

When I decided to leave, you would think that would make her very happy. Finally, she would be rid of a thorn in her side. I was moving on in a very non-threatening way. I gave the organization plenty (over 2 months) notice and offered to train my replacement. I thought I was doing the right thing staying to help, but apparently I had moved beyond the ability to do the right thing. I was no longer included in communication about new or existing projects, many closed door meetings became the order of the day (I was not invited behind the closed door in case you were wondering), and the director's office now needed to be LOCKED at night.

I am on my fifth day of freedom, and, obviously, still coming to terms with what it means to be officially separated from the organization.

That is just to give you a little context for what happened Thursday night (actually 2 am Friday morning) and then again Friday afternoon.

Not quite sound asleep due to too much caffeine the afternoon before, my phone shrieked at 2 am. I jumped out of bed sure that someone in family was in serious danger and grabbed the phone. I love called id. Even in my fear-adrenalined half asleep state, I stopped to see just who would be calling me at 2 am. My ex-boss's name was illuminated in blue.

IGNORE.

Seeing her name allowed me to switch from fear to anger. But not quite that easily. I lumbered back to bed imagining just what sense of entitlement she was feeling that she would call me in the middle of the night on her vacation. [Why and how I know she is on vacation this weekend is just another reason why I am glad to be an ex-employee.]

I climbed back into bed and realized that my heart was still beating furiously...maybe more now that I was noticing it. I would like to say it was still the fear-adrenaline from believing that one of my loved ones might be in danger. But I know better. I was thinking and worrying about what my ex-boss was calling to yell at me about. She never called me to chat. NEVER. It was always some unreasonable request at a markedly not professional time to be calling. But 2 am is a far cry from 7 pm or 8 pm or even 9 pm. And, even worse, I was thinking, What did I do to piss her off this time. [She is like that; since nothing is ever her fault, when she is upset about anything, she will find someone and something to blame for her latest mood.]

I had finally calmed down enough to go back to sleep when my phone beeped. Oh my god, a full five minutes later, my phone tells me there is a message. "She just left me a five minute message?!?!" This incredulous, indignant statement kept repeating in my head. I desperately wanted to just ignore the message, but I knew the phone would keep on beeping. So, I got up and I listened.

It was a good thing that I went ahead and listened. It turns out she had inadvertently dialed my number and was utterly oblivious to the fact that she was leaving a message. From the message, I could tell that she was out. Where I was, it was 2 am; where she was it was 5 am. While listening, I imagined, she was out still. I know that when she is out on vacation, that means she doesn't come home until the sun has long been out. I could hear a lot of noise, so out at a club I imagined. I heard a lot of women's voices and laughing. Eventually, I was bored with this and stopped listening way before 5 minutes were up.

I was disappointed in myself for imagining that she was calling me to take a final, parting shot. I was relieved that it was just a mistake. I was disappointed to see that she was incapable of locking her keypad so this kind of thing wouldn't happen. I had to remind myself that she was not my problem. I went back to bed.

The next day, I had completely put it out of my mind except to think I should share the story with one of my ex-colleagues who would appreciate the story...maybe laugh.

Then, my phone rang at 4pm. I was in the middle of an interview with a high school student, so even if I wanted to, I wasn't going to answer the phone. When I reached in my bag to press IGNORE, I noticed that the called ID said "unknown." In that case, I wouldn't have answered it anyway. A little while later, I noted a message.

When I had a free moment, I listened to the message. It was her again, only this time she had dialed my number on purpose. She must have realized that she had called me in the middle of the night. Unfortunately her ability to manage the features on her phone left much to be desired. I could hear her telling someone that she was mortified and that the phone had gone straight to voice mail.

I realized that she was leaving an unintended message again, only this time I could hear words. I could hear her puzzling about where she had been at that time, what had she said, had she mentioned anything about the doctor?? She went on to say, she is the one; I told you how bad things had been with this girl?

I listened on but there was nothing very interesting said. There was no apology for having called my phone in the middle of the night. No, sorry to bother you, I called you inadvertently. It was all about her. What's new?

I was puzzled, though, how had things been bad from her perspective? She never seemed to notice when she was being impossible. Perhaps it was when I pointed it out and didn't take her raging and raving and yelling? I wish I could say that I didn't care, that it didn't matter. But it does. It is the reason I am no longer there.

Onward and upward. I am moving on, slowly but surely.