So.

It's done. Out with the old job, in with the new. And just in time, apparently.

It was unpleasant. It was hurtful and bad. Apparently I am a bad employee, and my boss doesn't like me. Apparently nobody in the clinic likes me, because I am rude and unprofessional.

There's a not-quite-tiny part of my head that's whimpering and crying and telling me that he's right, and I am bad and unlikeable and that I'll have the same problems anywhere I go because the issue is with me and not the clinic. This is the part that is terrified of starting the new job, because it's far easier to believe someone telling me I'm bad than it is to believe someone telling me I'm good.

However, most of my mind is sending reassuring images of steady clientele, two out of three weekends off, no late nights, and a non-toxic work environment.

I hope the new place is good. I hope I can fit in there, instead of being the whipping girl. I hope that it's not me, and that I'm not automatically going to ruin anyplace I go with my rude unprofessional team-destroying demeanor.

I thought this was supposed to feel good.