I am leaving my job of 3 ½ years tomorrow, not by choice.
Nearly three months ago, I received my layoff notice in the form of a private two-minute meeting and a nice letter signed by my director. The letter explains that budget cuts are the reason behind my termination, not my inability or unwillingness to work, and I’ve been throwing it in the virtual face of every could-be employer I can possibly find. Still, in this dead economy and flood of pink slips and layoffs, I want employers to know that I did nothing to cause this.
I have never not had a job or, at least, a substantial amount of money in my savings account to live off of. And due to putting myself through college and three rounds of costly family court in the last six years… after tomorrow, I’ll have neither.
In the face of this change and uncertainty, I am feeling strangely confident about it all. Probably because I don’t have a choice in the matter. I’ve always been the kind of person to barrel through a crisis while the rest of the world spins uncontrollably. Only after the fix has been made do I give myself the chance to reflect on how bad it could have been.
That’s usually when I lose it.
This time is different, though. Maybe I’m more confident. Maybe I’m just delusional. Maybe this job has been my oppressor. Either way, this new way of thinking has gotten me to a point in my life that will allow me to walk out the door tomorrow.
Or run. I might just run out the door.
This is my opportunity to move on and do bigger and better and more admirable things, for myself, for my daughter, and for the people I love.
Alexander Graham Bell said, “Sometimes we stare so long at a door that is closing that we see too late the one that is open.”
I’ve been waiting for this door to close for a very long time. Finally, I can move on to the next…