Notice

I handed in my resignation this week.

I've had many jobs over the years and I've quit them all, sometimes in less-than-professional ways (e.g. sending a cowardly email following exactly one day of work). Even on the few occasions where I gave proper notice, I hastily dropped my "I quit!" letter on the boss's chair and then scurried home, postponing the awkwardness to the next morning.

I'm 35 now, and I've been at my current job for nearly five years. A hit-and-run letter wasn't going to cut it this time. So I marched upstairs, closed the office door behind me, and asked my boss if he had a minute.  He did.
I sat down and handed him the letter. "What's this?" he mused, unfolding it. I felt my face flush. Between awkward breaths, I managed to squeeze out something to the effect of: "I'm moving on."

He looked up from skimming the letter and raised his eyebrows, "For real?" he asked. I nodded. He seemed mildly surprised, if not terribly emotionally invested.

Maybe he was relieved that he wouldn't have to keep paying me to shoulder a steadily vanishing workload. Maybe he was annoyed that he'd have to start looking for a replacement for me. It's hard to say, because when this guy talks to you, he gives nothing away. I'm not sure where he learned that trick, or why, but it creates distance.

His words were fairly standard. He said he was surprised. He said he was sad to lose me. He said he would try to change my mind if he thought there was any point. That last comment was mildly off-putting. I would have liked to hear his case for changing my mind. Would he have offered me money? Vacation time? The part-time schedule I had (unsuccessfully) requested months earlier? Could he have swayed me?

We'll never know because he never tried. Instead, we talked about my post-work plans and how we would approach the transition. He wished me the best, and I left his office.

This conversation with the boss had been like every other one. I had walked in feeling uneasy and socially awkward, and I had walked out feeling calm and even slightly charmed (the guy does have some salesman-like qualities). After the fact, I was struggling to retain any tangible sense of what had been said. I always feel slightly bamboozled after time spent in the boss's office. And I always feel hyper aware of my "place."

The older I get, the younger my bosses get (comparatively speaking). This serves as an unflattering reminder that there are people my age who have WAY more to show for themselves than I do, career-wise. It also makes me less inclined to accept a boss's methods and decisions as gospel.

This particular employer has done plenty of things to make me shake my head. If I were in my twenties, I would probably still be assuming that he knows better than I do. But we're both in our mid-thirties. Chronologically, he's approximately as adult as I am. Yet, he owns a company and I just have a job, so he gets to make the rules for me. That can be a hard pill to swallow.

It's natural for employees to complain about how a business is run. I've seen it time and time again. At the end of the day, I feel like it's a waste of breath. Our boss owns this company. He gets to make the rules because he paid for that right. As employees, we can either accept things as they are, or find something that suits us better. 

As my awkward work day came to a close, I went from desk to desk and quietly advised my coworkers that I had given my notice. Most seemed shocked, or disappointed, or both. I started to feel a bit guilty at the thought of letting people down. I enjoy the group I work with. We laugh a lot, and we work well as a team. I'll miss them.

If I were still in my twenties, that emotional draw (coupled with a healthy fear of the unknown) might have been enough to keep me in place. But I'm older now, and I feel a strong desire to walk away from the status quo. If I want to be truly happy and fulfilled by what I do, I need to stop trying to fit into a framework that someone else built.

I need to make my own rules.