Ceecee quit. My boss at the card shop is leaving. She's going just a few blocks away to manage the new J. Crew store. But I'm bereft all the same. She's the one who decided last year to give me a chance, even though I have no relevant experience. She's done whatever she could to accommodate my schedule. She's forgiven my fat-fingered forgetfulness on the register.
But I have been expecting this. Ever since our store became a soft target for shoplifters, she has been unhappy with the lack of support she's received from Corporate. So has Jen, the assistant manager I work with most often. I expect her to be gone soon, too. (I know she's interviewing.)
I don't know what all this means for me. Ceecee and Jen appreciate my strengths -- my comfort chatting with clients and promoting the sale items -- and are patient with my aforementioned fat-fingered forgetfulness on the register. The money isn't tremendous but it helps. I love the discount. I also think it's been good for me to have the structure of a job. I began working when I was 17 and found during my year of complete retirement that I need something like this to keep me sharp and content.
So I hope that the new manager, whoever they may be, won't rock my world. Fingers crossed.
Photo by Siora Photography on Unsplash
