The problem with being an incurable optimist is that even when you can clearly see a situation heading in a bad direction, you can't squash the hope that it will turn out all right in the end. This can be handy when dealing with big, uncontrollable situations like the last six weeks of the Democratic primary; for more personal situations like one's job, however, being unable to stop hoping it will all work out means that in the end, when it doesn't work out, you get a metaphorical kick to the stomach.

And it's bad, people. I seriously thought the worst case scenario was that they'd scuttle any possibility of my official promotion to the job I've been actually already doing for the last year (well, 75% of it, anyway), and they've actually managed to find an even more unpleasant scenario I hadn't even considered (aside from being outright fired or transferred to another department). I don't want to disclose too many of the details because I don't know how much of what New Boss told me was in confidence, but we are approaching federal government levels of dysfunctional bureaucracy here.

Before I came to New York, I spent a year and a half at the worst job I ever had. The stress level of that job got so high that the last few months before I got into grad school and knew I would be leaving soon, I cried every Sunday night at the thought of having to go back to work. I promised myself I'd never let myself work in a situation like that again. So it's off to the job hunt, in an attempt to get out before they turn this job that I once thought absolutely perfect for me into my worst nightmare.

On the plus side, it's kind of a relief to have the waiting game over, after 2 plus years of various restructuring scenarios being drawn up but never quite working out. At least now I know for sure what my next step is. (See, you can't keep an incurable optimist down for long.)