Before I forget, thanks go to my man, Jeff, who found my email, corporate calendar and task manager. You restored my sanity! Thank you, you are the best! One week without your calendar and task manager makes you appreciate a paper planner. Thanks again.
Ok. I can’t say much about my alter-ego, Working Girl not associated with Melanie Griffith or Sigourney Weaver, but I did resign last night. I’ve never resigned without feeling relief about it. Usually, there is some sort of excitement about my future and the new mis-adventures I’ll have in the working world. And one day, hopefully, the mis-adventures of leaving the working world. This time, I left my boss’ office with a knot in my stomach so tight that I thought I’d keel over on the street with my face in a pile of grey/yellow slush.
I’m not sure if that’s a premonition or just the fact that I had not had lunch yet. I suppose the lack of nourishment, the stress of telling someone, “hey, I’m outty” and the fact that I ran out of a 3 hour meeting to catch my boss to tell her “I’m outty” had something to do with it. BTW, have you ever had a meeting that sucked so much out of your head that the top of your head is so warm, you could feel steam rising? My brain nearly overheated yesterday.
I love my job. Don’t get me wrong, I really enjoy what I do. However, when an opportunity knocks on your doorstep and the only reason you have to turn it down is complacency and fear, then you need to really smack yourself awake.
I wish I could say I quit without a plan. I wish I was so carefree and fly by night but I’m not. I delude myself and say that I’m winging it but I honestly know that if I didn’t get the offer, I would be still doing what I’m doing this time next month.
I guess the idea of being a free spirit seems more adventurous than what I am. I’m a fuddy duddy. I can admit this and be proud of it but a part of me wishes I could fly by the seat of my pants, quit my job and change careers. Narda mailed me an article she found in Newsweek, ‘The Taste Makers’ by Dorothy Kalins. It follows the proliferation of entrepreneurs in the food industry. “Hey P. Thought you might find this interesting. N.”
Nothing like a well intentioned note to kick you in the ass. I know she meant well and I appreciate that she thought of me when she read it but I really feel like a grand fuddy duddy for not being like these people who drop everything and go for the gusto.
See, I have ambition. He got that ambition baby look in his eyes. Can someone please remove this from the playlist of every major radio station? I just don’t like the business end of business. I’d prefer to have a partner handle the wheeling, dealing and spieling. Not to mention the whole $$$ thing. My streets aren’t lined with gold. In fact, right now, the street is lined with some nasty looking snow/ice chunks. I still work for a living. I’ve paid less than 20% of my mortgage off. I’m a delicate flower. I need shelter, food and the occasional shoe sale.
On the Christmas front, I started wrapping the presents. I have this one medium size present that is in a soft oval pouch that I can’t figure out how to wrap without it looking funny. I’m not a bag girl, unless it’s wine so I’m taking suggestions. Oh, and I gave up on my FIL and have decided to stop off at the local wine shop and grab a few bottles of organic wines and call it a day. Maybe I’ll give it a French theme and wrap it in a basket with cheese and bread.
Finally in a true testament to my true masochism, I’ve signed up to participate in Holidailies 2005. MissMeliss and Michele motivated me to do so. In short, “Holidailies participants solemnly vow to update their Web sites daily from Dec. 7 to Jan. 6.” I barely am able to update the 3 times a week I’ve set as a personal goal yet I figured it would be a way to test my mettle and maybe document the mayhem in my head during the holiday season. I get the feeling towards the end, you may very well be inundated by photos of P and Z but if I do, I promise to include one of them in their snowbooties.
