an extended holiday

Today is my last day of work for as much as six weeks. No, I didn't have the baby. But I will blame my pregnant hormones and tender heart on the fact that I won't be receiving a paycheck for a month and a half.

Back in February, when I learned I was pregnant, I decided I didn't want to go back to work once the baby was born. Not a big deal. Women do that all the time. But most women don't work in an industry where it can take your boss up to four months to find a replacement. Yep, that's how long it will take to find someone to fill my shoes. Compliment to myself intended. Because of the company's extensive background checking and necessary polygraphing, delays in hiring are standard. And that's after they've found someone who wants the job.

So being the kind and considerate person that I am, I informed my boss I wouldn't be coming back and asked that they begin the search for my replacement right away. Myself and another secretary have already been doing the work of three. I didn't want to leave her in the lurch. But things are never that simple. Turns out I would have to quit my full time status for them to post a job opening for my full time status job. Wracking my brain and lamenting to Jason, we came up with a solution. For them to start finding someone, I just can't be a full time employee. So how about I become a part time employee. I would lose the benefits but I didn't use those anyway.

Solution found.

Then I found out what would be involved in becoming a part time employee. Not as simple a procedure as it sounds. I have to quit, wait two pay periods (read: one month), and then personnel can begin the paperwork to make me a part time worker bee (read: another few weeks).

GAAAAH! Oh, the bureaucracy!

So now I'm out of work for a time and my co-worker, the one I was trying to save from being overloaded with work in the first place, will still be overloaded. But only for 6 weeks. Instead of 4 months. I guess that's a fair enough trade off.