The thing is, you simply must quit a job when it becomes apparent that it is doing you more harm than good. Whatever the pay, if your soul is dying when you go there, you gotta leave. This last one of mine qualifies: Not only was the task inane--teaching seniors how to use computers--but the venue was bleak. I was working in what was euphemistically called an "assisted-living residence." Other terms might be minimum security prison or nursing home or get me the hell out of here.
On the face of it all looked good, but scratching the surface I discovered ineradicable tarnish and a one-way ticket to Nowheresville. I am now petrified of growing old and in fact have to stop writing immediately and go for a run while I still can. Oops...I just remembered I already can't due to an arthritic hip, so I'll just go for a brisk walk.
Note to self: Make every day count.
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