Quitting my job wasn’t as satisfying as I thought it would be. It was more bittersweet than sweet. But why?
Well, everyone’s nice when you’re leaving. People buy you lunch, dinner, drinks. People tell you how awesome you are when they’re never going to see you again. They thank you at meetings and in passing and they buy you cards and chocolates and flowers. And you let things that normally bother you roll right off your back — after all, you’re never going to see these people again. You can let it slide. You’re like a saintly celebrity.
Another thing: the transition sucks. I’m not a teacher, so it’s going to be pretty tough to transition the combined product of a few years of school, eight years of general work experience, and five years of company-specific knowledge to another person in seven working days.
When it comes down to it, quitting is like breaking up. You liked this job once. It has done great things for you. It has paid you lots of money — money that has enabled you to take this crazy step. It has sent you on a trip to India and taught you all about public speaking and dealing with difficult people. And now you’re leaving it to move on to better things.
I guess I’m still in the work hangover phase. It hasn’t yet sunk in that I’m never going back again. But I’m pretty sure that this isn’t the best I’m going to feel all day…