It amazes me the difference a job can make.
It's embarrassing to admit, but the pharmacy did not work out. It is the only job that I have ever worked that I left after giving a two day notice. In April, I received a raise that I'd been promised the previous August. A raise that was, after repeated questioning, finally promised in writing in October. As soon as I finally got that long awaited raise in April, my hours were cut from 40 to 30 hours per week.
That was the final straw.
I went back to what I know. I am working with the developmentally disabled. It is a 'fit'. I am happy in my job. I am earning a livable wage. I enjoy my clients, and I receive positive feedback from my superiors.
I also look back at the last couple years and realize that I've been dealing with a pretty heavy duty depression.
I don't know why that should be, that a job determines so much of my feelings of worth, but it does.
But I'm starting to love life again. I am a pretty blessed woman.