"Phase One In Which Doris Gets Her Oats"

I got termed from my last job after 30 years of service. I'm over it for the most part, but how do you devote thirty years of your life to something and then just forget about it. The powers that be had every right to fire me for policy violations, but I made an important contribution to the success of the organization by introducing carrot souffle to the mix. One of the most popular food items we served. And the most important point; it brought people in.

So you fire the old catfish and bid him adieu. And tell him we owe you two weeks vacation and later renege. I wasn't due the vacation time, so I wasn't surprised when I got my final check. The ignominy of being shown the front door-even tho' it was done at a motel- was humiliating. It took me a while to get over the shock of being torpedoed by a bunch of wannabe Gordon Gekko's.

I gave those forkers the best years of my life. Try getting a job in middle age. It ain't easy. And if it weren't for a friend of mine who once worked with me, I'm sure I would be packing groceries for every Tom, Dick and Harry at the local Piggly Wiggly.

I was actually relieved when my former boss told me I was getting the boot. Why? Cos I hated my job. Literally loathed it. [ love the alliteration ] In fact I never liked the job from the git-go.

"So, why did you stay so long, Cat?"

Logical question. Why? Because they kept throwing money at me, and I must admit to loving money.

But the guests were difficult and demanding, even tho' most were nice people. And the team members were good folks for the most part, but as with people who are under the Mendoza line when it comes to child care; health care, etc., they had a lot of problems which affected their work and attendance.

I told my team that if I had a heart attack and fell into the turnip greens, would they at least remove my head, so I could depart this world with a little dignity. Shirley, if I had stayed, this scenario was certainly in the [ tarot ] cards.

So things have worked out well in retrospect. I have a new job, and even tho' my boss is a raving passive-aggressive dickhead, I actually enjoy going to work. My new digs have opened up a new world to me. Damn, I would have hated to retire at Hell Whole [ affectionate nickname ] with only one gig on my resume.'

But fork those arrogant asswholes who termed me a little over a year ago. And don't give me that crap that it was only business and wasn't personal.

My only retort: BULL SHIT!

Bitter? I hardly ever dwell or even think about it. But every now and then it creeps into my psyche. And why not! I devoted 30 years of my life to a company. And gave them a recipe that comes along once in a lifetime.

Fork 'em. And as Forrest Gump once said: "And that's all I have to say about that!"