and that he prided himself on being able to read people but he couldn't read me at all and never knew what I was thinking or feeling.

And this is your fault? (I've had bosses who dinged me in performance appraisals because they *could* tell what I was thinking, and it was "The people in this meeting are idiots and, for the love of god, it's moot point, not mute point.")

If you decide to go back to your old job for a while, JZ, it will be, at most, a strategic retreat in order to regroup. Your old boss knows that you'll ultimately need a different job, and he seems to have been supportive.

Many people here speak great wisdom, truly.

I've had bosses who dinged me in performance appraisals because they *could* tell what I was thinking, and it was "The people in this meeting are idiots and, for the love of god, it's moot point, not mute point."

Hah! Yeha, that one's a lot more likely to bite me than the other one!

Timelies all!

Happy Birthday tommyrot!

{{{JZ}}}It's their problem, not yours. Don't beat yourself up about it.

Someone told me recently that, when you feel like you are going backward, more often than not, it's simply that you are revving up for a leap forward. Reminds me of those Matchbox(tm) cars that we had as kids, that you had to scrape backward to get them to zoom.

In the types of lives that most of us are priviliged to lead, there are actually very few bad steps. Uncomfortable unjolly, wish-it-were-different steps? Sure. But 'duct-taped to a radiator in a serial killer's basement, which I deserve because I'm a bad person' steps? Pretty rare.

"distant" has overtones of steely disregard that I cannot imagine anyone thinking after even a couple minutes in your presence.

Me? Yes. JZ? Never.

he told me that I didn't say hello or goodbye

This sounds like a roommate who insisted that it was the responsability of the person entering to say hello, so the steely silence that greeted me when I came home was all my fault because I didn't say anything as I was coming in. @@@

Jesus Christ, JZ. I'm so sorry. And it was definitely not anything you did or didn't do. Like others have said. Gah -- what fucking fuckers!

In really shallow and possibly now inappropriate news, I now have a full set of fake nails that I think I hate, even though I spent what feels like a ridiculous amount of money on them. I can barely type!

@@@

It was just that ridiculous.

Tips for the better faking of your memoir: [link]