I have never quit a job.
Me leaving a job (with the exception of one time I was let go - the story behind which would be an entire blog) has always been inevitable because I was moving to college or home from college, a predetermined going away point that just tick-tocked closer and closer.
That changed this week.
Now, I have known my boss almost my entire life. My brother and I went to school with her two kids. She gave me my first job in high school. She handed me my diploma when I walked across the stage at my high school commencement. And while she's not exactly a friend, she has played a huge role in my life. I appreciate the many, many things she has done to help me, especially in the last ten years, despite the fact that we often don't see things the same way.
There's a level of stilted-ness that comes about when you know your boss is trying to sell the business and that your job might not necessarily exist when that happens. You have to watch what you say, because if the business doesn't sell, you still have to work for her, but at the same time, there are serious questions that need to be addressed. Knowing if anyone has looked or mad an offer completely changes your timeline. At the same time, though, you then become responsible for what you tell those below you - you need them to keep working and keep the business running, but you don't want to blindside them with a complete loss of income either. It's a tightrope.
The tightrope is made thinner by the fact that I don't enjoy my job. And not just because it doesn't challenge me or I don't enjoy the work, but because I have some fundamental struggles with decisions that are being made at the top and I am burned out from being on call 24 hours a day.
It is time for me to move on. I know that, and I've felt it for a while, but I had a strange little plan of sticking out another nine months or so before really starting to look elsewhere. Then a job opened up - not necessarily my Dream Job, but at least a dreamy one - in my desired field, with a raise and benefits. It was a long road, but I got it.
And suddenly I had to tell my boss that I got a new job, when I hadn't even told her I was applying for one. As I was telling her, all she could say was, "Ah, Sarah," in this keening way that reminded me of the way my dog whimpers when someone leaves without her. "What are we going to do without you?"
I replied tongue-in-cheek and excused myself. Only later that evening did I hear that after I left, her husband found her sitting at the desk, teary-eyed over my abandonment. I can't say I'm surprised by this, but I wonder if maybe it isn't even more of a sign that I need to go somewhere else, that I allowed myself to become indispensable in a place where I had no desire to remain.
While she was crying, I was just happy for this chapter of my life to close.
Tuesday, June 30, 2015
Thursday, June 25, 2015
Rejection, Acceptance, and Faith
I live on site at my job. It's 26 feet from my apartment to my office. This sometimes leads to awkward, strange mornings - me sitting at the desk taking a reservation when my boss unlocks the door on my day off, running for the phone still in a towel after my shower, or a renter knocking on my door having locked himself out.
Or, as it was about a month ago, a realtor trying to open my bedroom door.
Luckily, I lock the doors at night, otherwise the poor realtor, potential buyers (a high school friend of mine and her mom - seriously, small towns can get so damn awkward), and my boss would have had quite the sight.
The day the realtor woke me up was the same day I submitted a job application in a nervous, hopeful fog. I had applied for this job once before, senior year of college when I still had a full semester of class ahead. I never heard a peep. A lot changed in two years, and I held my breath as I prayed over the process, sure that God's timing was so obvious here.
Three hours later, I had an interview.
The interview ended with them saying I had "an awesome set of skills." They told me the decision would be three days.
Three days later, they told me three more days.
Three days later, the opportunity was gone.
They were very complimentary. Basically, it had come down to me and someone else, and the someone edged me out. If another opportunity came up, they would love to have me.
A nice rejection doesn't make you feel any less rejected.
I sat in the bottom of my closet and cried as I called my SO and my mom. I ate an absurd amount of calories. I bought some vodka. I argued with friends, because sometimes they just don't say the right things and sometimes you just don't care enough to be nice about it. And mostly, I felt crummy and boxed in and just not good enough.
7 days later, everything changed.
I was checking my email during a particularly slow moment at work. The woman who would have been my boss made an appearance. In essence, the someone else had backed out, and they wanted me - was I still interested?
Um, yes.
So now here I sit, filling my last two weeks before moving into The New, The Different, and The Unknown. I spent those seven days resigning myself to staying where I was, to believing that the right thing would come, that there was a reason I wasn't "there" yet. And now it's all changed again. The world is so topsy-turvy sometimes, so hard to reckon with. But I believe those seven days were good for me, if only to serve as a reminder that I need to accept myself and accept that I won't always be the best, the brightest, and the winner.
Or, as it was about a month ago, a realtor trying to open my bedroom door.
Luckily, I lock the doors at night, otherwise the poor realtor, potential buyers (a high school friend of mine and her mom - seriously, small towns can get so damn awkward), and my boss would have had quite the sight.
The day the realtor woke me up was the same day I submitted a job application in a nervous, hopeful fog. I had applied for this job once before, senior year of college when I still had a full semester of class ahead. I never heard a peep. A lot changed in two years, and I held my breath as I prayed over the process, sure that God's timing was so obvious here.
Three hours later, I had an interview.
The interview ended with them saying I had "an awesome set of skills." They told me the decision would be three days.
Three days later, they told me three more days.
Three days later, the opportunity was gone.
They were very complimentary. Basically, it had come down to me and someone else, and the someone edged me out. If another opportunity came up, they would love to have me.
A nice rejection doesn't make you feel any less rejected.
I sat in the bottom of my closet and cried as I called my SO and my mom. I ate an absurd amount of calories. I bought some vodka. I argued with friends, because sometimes they just don't say the right things and sometimes you just don't care enough to be nice about it. And mostly, I felt crummy and boxed in and just not good enough.
7 days later, everything changed.
I was checking my email during a particularly slow moment at work. The woman who would have been my boss made an appearance. In essence, the someone else had backed out, and they wanted me - was I still interested?
Um, yes.
So now here I sit, filling my last two weeks before moving into The New, The Different, and The Unknown. I spent those seven days resigning myself to staying where I was, to believing that the right thing would come, that there was a reason I wasn't "there" yet. And now it's all changed again. The world is so topsy-turvy sometimes, so hard to reckon with. But I believe those seven days were good for me, if only to serve as a reminder that I need to accept myself and accept that I won't always be the best, the brightest, and the winner.
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