See ya...wouldn't wanna be ya

Well the last day of work at my old job came and went quietly and with little fanfare. I don't really know why when we finally quit a job, we expect there to be so much more drama or excitement surrounding it. I know everyone feels like they deserve their awesome quit story, but typically people don't all go out like this guy. (However he is definitely my hero.) Really, after the initial shock on the day you tell your boss and various people around the office, there is often not much else to it.

People are surprised (or not) when you tell them you quit, then they ask you about it, then they listen for a few minutes, then they wish you well, then they go back to the report or spreadsheet they were working on before you strolled by. Most likely your presence is filed away in the co-worker memory drawer in their brain, only to be called upon a few years from now when someone shares an anecdote about some joke you made about the fax machine once, and they spend a few minutes trying to remember if your hair was blond or brown. "What ever happened to her?" they will ask. "I don't know. She was a riot though, that one." (At least that is what I secretly hope they will remark about me when I am gone.)

So really, once you shout through the halls that you have officially quit, the rest of the process is often low key and uneventful. I had two weeks to try to leave my carefully disorganized mess of a cubicle as neat and as easy to navigate as possible for the next bright-eyed assistant coming in with high hopes and idealistic dreams. I also had to keep up with my current work load, and my boss decided to throw on a few last minute projects he thought would be helpful as well. Between all these obligations, I had my work cut out for me. While many quitters would have said "F this, I don't need to be responsible for my work anymore, let the next poor schmuck deal with it," I took the time to wrap up loose ends, clear up some issues, and clean up shop a bit. I stayed late a few days, and even on my last day, I was there right up until 5pm, my usual end-of-day time. I even took the time to give my boss the honest feedback he asked for. I was late leaving on my last day because I was trying to find the nicest way possible to define micromanagement while still being eloquent and constructive and not coming off like an asshole. (It was tough, but I think I did okay.)

I had post-work goodbye drinks with a few co-workers the Wednesday before I left at this fabulous river front restaurant and that made my leaving feel a little more real. I was sad that a lot of people I considered good work friends were not able to make it for one reason or another. I know it was nothing personal, just people being busy. But I think if there had been more time for goodbye festivities with some of them, maybe it all would have felt a little more poignant. Even tentative "let's have lunch your last week" ideas never came to fruition, mostly because I had too much to do during the day and never even took a lunch my last week. So the timing prevented a few goodbyes with some people I worked with and really enjoyed seeing every day. The good news is, in my new job I will be located right across the street from my old office. So really, I have no reason to be sad about not having goodbye lunches and drinks with some good folks--I mean I can pretty much have that any time with them even now. So that works.

At the end of the day on my last day at the office where I have set up shop for almost four years, I packed my Jansport backpack to it's fullest capacity with stuff I had kept there, like a pair of old dusty black heels and pictures of my fiance and a pair of purple striped socks and some instant lemonade packets and Halls cough drops and a shit-ton of magnets from all over the U.S. I gave a few hugs. I wrote a nice email and as honest an assessment of my boss as I could while still keeping his desire to be a future reference for me intact. I locked up my cabinets for the last time and I dropped off my ID pass to my buddy in HR. She walked with me out those doors as I left for the last time as an employee. It was a windy day and my backpack was heavy but I did not care. I felt so light, so free, that the wind could have picked me right up and twirled me around.