Last day at Centex
Hey guys. Well, this is it. Frankly, I've been kind of moping around all week second guessing myself for leaving. I keep asking myself if I'm doing the right thing until I have face time with dad, whereupon I'm totaly reassured that yes, the thing for me to do is leave.
I don't know what it is but in a lot of ways dad and I are like oil and water. I guess it's the mom in me, but after three years I can't help but think that being around him too much really isn't that good for me. Yesterday he was here and he began pissing and moaning about me leaving. He even insinuated that I was a quitter (at least, that's how I took it). This is a paraphrase of my response:
"A quitter?" I said. "Excuse me? Me . . . a quitter? No. I have put up with your bullshit and this declining market for three fucking years with no reward. THREE YEARS I have been banging my head against this brick wall and it hasn't fallen down. But I am no quitter. And you can talk all you want about the 'different things' we could do in marketing and you can talk it up like it's some grand game or adventure - as I'm sure it is to you - but the fact remains that at the end of the day, you're still the rich man. You can bitch at me about sales or San Antonio's profitability but still run off and go skiing every damned month. I can't. I'm the one who has to listen to you and lay awake at night wondering how I can make my life, and that of my family, better through this place. I'm leaving because I've lost faith that I can."
. . . and that seemed to hold him for about a half an hour.
Seriously, he backed off after that. But that only illustrates one of his main character flaws. Dad hates to be argued with. He purposefully surrounds himself with boot-lickers and yes-men in Austin and anyone will tell you that you cannot long remain in his presence without touching your head to the floor. I don't do that. The irony is that dad doesn't ever seem to respect me unless I stand up to him. When I do that, things get better with us.
Hopefully, we're still parting on good terms and my leaving won't damage our relationship too much. I fully expect him to call me regularly after I leave and poor mouth my new job. When that happens, I'll bite his ass again. I also fully expect him to poor mouth me to you guys. When (not "if") that happens, bite your tongue. While I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't chime in with a "yeah, James sucks!" you don't need to start a fight with him to defend me. We've all spent time in his doghouse and it looks like I'm going to have a rather long-term stay there. Big fucking deal. There are some things that make me lose sleep at night. This won't be one of them.
I've got computer problems at home, y'all, so I probably won't post again until Monday. If I can, I'll do so from the office.
I don't know what it is but in a lot of ways dad and I are like oil and water. I guess it's the mom in me, but after three years I can't help but think that being around him too much really isn't that good for me. Yesterday he was here and he began pissing and moaning about me leaving. He even insinuated that I was a quitter (at least, that's how I took it). This is a paraphrase of my response:
"A quitter?" I said. "Excuse me? Me . . . a quitter? No. I have put up with your bullshit and this declining market for three fucking years with no reward. THREE YEARS I have been banging my head against this brick wall and it hasn't fallen down. But I am no quitter. And you can talk all you want about the 'different things' we could do in marketing and you can talk it up like it's some grand game or adventure - as I'm sure it is to you - but the fact remains that at the end of the day, you're still the rich man. You can bitch at me about sales or San Antonio's profitability but still run off and go skiing every damned month. I can't. I'm the one who has to listen to you and lay awake at night wondering how I can make my life, and that of my family, better through this place. I'm leaving because I've lost faith that I can."
. . . and that seemed to hold him for about a half an hour.
Seriously, he backed off after that. But that only illustrates one of his main character flaws. Dad hates to be argued with. He purposefully surrounds himself with boot-lickers and yes-men in Austin and anyone will tell you that you cannot long remain in his presence without touching your head to the floor. I don't do that. The irony is that dad doesn't ever seem to respect me unless I stand up to him. When I do that, things get better with us.
Hopefully, we're still parting on good terms and my leaving won't damage our relationship too much. I fully expect him to call me regularly after I leave and poor mouth my new job. When that happens, I'll bite his ass again. I also fully expect him to poor mouth me to you guys. When (not "if") that happens, bite your tongue. While I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't chime in with a "yeah, James sucks!" you don't need to start a fight with him to defend me. We've all spent time in his doghouse and it looks like I'm going to have a rather long-term stay there. Big fucking deal. There are some things that make me lose sleep at night. This won't be one of them.
I've got computer problems at home, y'all, so I probably won't post again until Monday. If I can, I'll do so from the office.
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