In theory

Every year, roughly 30 days before her birthday, Biff begins the countdown/reminder service: “My birthday’s next month!” “My birthday’s in 18 days!” “5 days until my birthday!” and so on. (Why yes- it is, in fact, incredibly annoying, thank you for asking.) I, on the other hand, have always preferred to drift quietly toward my birthday (next month if you're wondering, not that I’m telling you to mark your calendars or anything), sans PSAs to my loved ones, just looking forward to a day of doing whatever I please and tallying up who loves me enough to remember the big event on their own (and, conversely, who I can cross off my Christmas card list). Since I’m not a big gimme-presents type of gal, simply being remembered makes my day.

I think that’s why, Sunday evening when the texts and phone calls started trickling in (turning into a veritable flood by Monday afternoon), regarding my carefully-planned (nearly two loooong years, people) Take This Job & Shove It day, my tiny blackened heart was warmed and made fuzzy (hmmm, eww, I think) then grew to end-of-The-Grinch-story proportions, and will likely stay that way all week.

Or at least until the next asshole in a Lexus cuts me off trying to get into my lane because construction has shut down half the highway and where were you when the warning signs started 2 miles ago, asshole? Did you not think that applied to you, or do you simply go through life assuming the world will make way for you and your gigantic entitlement issues, huh? HUH?!!!


Boss Lady was shocked. And “devastated.” I think there were actual tears in her eyes. She asked me if a raise would convince me to stay (I said no- will I be kicking myself in 6 months?). She said a bunch of other things to me, the gist of which being that I am perfect and no one will ever come close to doing quite the job I’ve done for her, and the fashion world will suffer a great loss the day I officially desert my Executive Assistant post (forgive me for paraphrasing but trust in its accuracy). Which, duh. And this is perhaps why the company shouldn’t have combined that raise two years ago with a side helping of morale destruction but what’s done is done.

I do regret breaking the news to her after she’d come in and happily plunked a bunch of souvenirs from her travels down on my desk. That felt a little evil, even though I knew it would happen that way (Thanks for the gifts! Now I have something special for YOU!). And I do regret not cementing an official last day, but we’re negotiating an “if necessary” part-time, flexible schedule for September to ease the transition with my replacement. So I may not, in reality, be out of the corporate world by my birthday which was supposed to be my Milestone Hella Big Present to myself, but should at least be enjoying an easy schedule and a little extra cash for the month which will help to pay for all the cake. (And by “cake,” I mean “booze” of course.)

The light at the end of the tunnel is definitely visible. Perhaps a little farther away than I would like, but it’s there. Yesterday's big event PLUS the fact that my interview last week went about twenty times better than I’d hoped (more on that later, when I’m certain I won’t jinx anything), September will be a month of change, determination (that's code for Hard Work), opportunity, challenge, and finally, finally being able to pursue a career in something I love. Happy birthday to me.

3 comment:

Blogger Lisa said...

I left a job shortly after I got married. SO it was all, "thanks for the expensive wedding present and by the way, I'm leaving." Feel bad about that.

BUt I can't wait to see how your new career goes. And drink some extra cake (aka booze) for me on that big, fun day!

2:59 PM  
Anonymous skyhawk said...


True story -- I didn't have the ANN gig firmly locked down when I gave my notice to AG. There had been a lot of talk, and I knew they wanted me, but we hadn’t agreed on numbers yet.

Anyway, I literally walked into AG one day -- I think it was September 14 of '05 --looked around and said "yeah, enough." Split-second decision, and I enjoyed telling Wayne about it immensely.

Of course, I was also a chicken-shit... hence the six-week lead time. And it took them that long to find my replacement.

My point is, leaps of faith into the unknown are frickin' awesome. Enjoy yours, you've earned it.

5:10 PM  
Blogger That Nervous Girl said...

Wow. Hella-good for you, Quinn - you're my hero!

10:47 AM  

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