“What a difference a month makes.” That’s what my sister said to me when she found out about my new job.
A month ago, I was texting her in the middle of my work day, almost in tears. I was so annoyed at the unscrupulous practices that seemed to envelop me; so underwhelmed by the impact I was making on the world; and so worried that I’d never find a shoe that fit. Each day my commute into work seemed like a new epitaph for my professional life- I was walking through the valley of the shadow of death, or so it seemed- Coolio’s discerning lyrics were having a profound impact on me as I compared my life to his “Gangster’s Paradise.” You know, white girl problems. But the meaninglessness seemed to be compounding daily- minute after minute, hour after hour…
Today I got a wonderful job offer, from a company who appears to stand behind their “our people are our greatest asset” mantra. I still can’t seem to believe it’s real, because for the last several weeks (and months, and years) I’ve felt like I can’t possibly find something great that I’ll like, and that would be worth leaving a perfectly good job for. But here it is, and I’m wondering if I really deserve it.
Putting in my two week notice was a lot harder than I thought it’d be. I thought that when I quit, I’d be going out in a blaze of glory and there’d be “f-bombs” and crappy Staples pens flying across the room. I was picturing beer bottles (how those would be in my office, I don’t know) shattering against walls and desks, and jagged glass being waved erratically at my coworkers as I ask- no, challenge- my tepid colleagues to “come at me bro, COME AT ME!” Instead, my departure seems like it will be much more charming and professional. I had great talks with my bosses; both of whom I will actually really miss. They’re not the reason I’m leaving though, nor were they ever the reason I wanted to wield hastily made weapons at work. I just worked in a stressful place, that I needed to get out of.
You see, much like my man Coolio, too much television watchin’ got me chasin’ dreams. I’m excited. Jazzed. Thrilled. Pumped. And… scared? Yes, scared. I haven’t been the “new girl” for over 4 years. I’ve been the expert at everything I’ve done for almost that same amount of time. I’ve been spoiled by my own sense of confidence, and have always felt that being so intrepid was part of my schtick, and that it got me to where I am. I had a lot of support and I can say a lot of great things about the company I currently work for, but I’m not here to wax poetic about that. Nor am I here to say anything bad (so please, keep the crazy bottle breaking thing from before just between us- I don’t need anyone thinking I’m some schitzo or something.)
So, that’s my update. That’s where I’ve been. That’s what’s been going on in my life. And, you know what I’m almost more excited for than anything? Shopping for new work clothes, ’cause I gotta be down with the hood team.
Good luck with the new job & shopping for it! Congratulations on finding the nerve to move on and be the new girl. Hope it’s fun, rewarding, supportive.