Life does so like to throw curve balls at the best laid plans. For example, blogging. If you take too long in the crafting of your statement, you may rapidly find that what you wished to say is no longer relevant.
Case in point, I was working on a blog post called “The Death in Deadlines.” Long have I bemoaned the corporate world, chained to a desk and other’s rules. I have been doing two different jobs, acting as both Exec Assistant and Special Events Coordinator. The first is my job on paper (which grows daily). The second, I’ve stepped up to because it is desperately needed (and far more entertaining than the first.) The pace has become unmanageable and the office drama has grown more emotionally draining by the month. Add to that the fact that I left my heart in Kanab, Utah, and what was once uncomfortable becomes unbearable. Thus over a month ago,“Operation Departure” was set in motion.
I notified my friends in IT that I would need to move my iTunes library off my work computer. This did require my buying a laptop of my very own, on which to relocate my tunage. Tag began budgeting, to find out how we might be able to live on a single income (in the interim, not as a full time solution.) I set up time with the President of the company, to establish why they needed a full time Events Coordinator, and also to name the candidate I thought best to fill that position. Lastly, I declared to those closest to me that I would not see February 1st in my current situation.
I am prone to staying in very bad situations for way too long. My inner codependent screams, “I can fix this,” and I repeatedly attempt to make silk from the sow’s ear. Therefore, by declaration, I enlisted my friends to be my reality check and my reinforced backbone. If, for some reason I did not give notice, they were all permitted to question my sanity and … harass me until I stood up for myself and left.
This week, each day, they would IM me encouraging words and a great deal of support. And each day this week, I considered backing out of my plan. Not because the work situation was getting any better, but because my masochistic self felt irrepressibly guilty for leaving a job for no better reason than my mental health.
“Death in Deadlines” was to speak to the fact that my friends were (rightly so) calling for me to honor my commitment, and to admit my fear and hesitation to honor myself. However, today (the day before I was to give notice) events came to pass that required my announcement to come one day early. It was time to just take a deep breath and speak up for myself. I did so, and while I kept it diplomatic, a small spark inside me ignited and I felt … I don’t know how to describe it. Hopeful, perhaps. Free, maybe.
Whatever the feeling, the point is… with a great deal of planning, but no clear idea of where I’m headed, I let go of what was, and jumped both feet into the ranks of the unemployed.