Three years ago today, was like any other. Up early. Morning routines. Just another morning at my make-work job.
It was a refreshingly crisp spring day and I slipped out at lunch to use my first ever Groupon: 30 minutes of oxygen therapy. When I emerged from the below-ground clinic, the sun was beaming. The day was gorgeous. I felt spectacular.
Back at work, a dreaded co-worker requested a last minute meeting. Prodding, goading, insisting that I voice my perspective of the toxic work environment we shared. I held my tongue as best as I could. But eventually the truth escaped. It got ugly.
I sincerely wish I held up under attack. That I breathed calmly, kept centred and considered the source.
But I don’t.
I left the onslaught, buzzing. Shaking. My seized up diaphragm barely allowing a breath, I phoned Mark who offered to pick me up. I accepted Mark’s offer (completely out of character). Then, for no apparent reason, cleared my desk of all my stuff.
Minutes into the ride home, Mark said “Quit.”
A feverish tumbling of parameters and consequences.
A snappy resignation letter, speed-written by Mark.
A massive, scary, thrilling relief.
More than twenty five years of full time employment came abruptly to an end. Phew.
My eventual exit interview offered a twist. A brand new position, a signing bonus, much concern, respect and esteem. And a full week to make my choice.
I chose leisure.
And that has made all the difference.
Thank you, sweet, sweet Mark for my beautiful life. Three years and counting.
I am so immensely grateful.
xo
Related Links:
Lucille: Really? Did “nothing” cancel?
– Arrested Development, Burning Love, January 30, 2005.