Tomorrow is my last day at a job I’ve held for over 12 years. It should feel more surreal than it does.
I’ve wanted to move on for a long time, not because I was unhappy, but because I wanted more than my job could give me. As a person who needs to be constantly challenged and exposed to new ideas, I should have left years ago. True to self, once I got it in my head that change needed to happen, an opportunity to move on presented itself quickly.
Now my head is flooded with wonderful notions of flexibility and freedom that a traditional 8 to 5 job could never afford me. No more daily commutes. No more forgetting to pack a lunch (or not having lunch because I couldn’t cook the night before). No coworkers to annoy me. No losing my focus because the phone rings. Being able to stop and do some sun salutations if I need a reset or go for a run in the middle of the morning when the light is perfect. I’m particularly stoked about delving into sleep hacking and working from the beach or the UK if I so choose. I’m looking forward to writing more (OMG how I miss writing!).
I’m not naive, though. I know I’ll be working longer hours. I know I have to have excellent self-discipline. I’ll have to suck up to clients (thank goodness difficult people are my forte). I know I probably won’t get to see my friends too terribly often during the first six to eight weeks while I settle in to whatever my optimal routine is. I know I still have to hustle so there’s a job at the end of a job. I know work/life balance will be more of a work/life blend (but it already is for me). I know I’ll have to be diligent about SAVING for TAXES and retirement and health insurance. I know enough to know I’ll be caught with my pants down at some point (assuming I’m wearing any, because that won’t be a requirement anymore).
That’s right: people who might have a conference call with me sometime in the future. I totally will not be wearing pants while we talk, because I don’t have to. And don’t test me with the whole “pics or it didn’t happen” because this girl freely posts bikini pics on Facebook. I. Have. No. Fear.
Or shame. Shame is probably important here for someone other than me.
The amazing thing about this process is that there is no end, no outcome, no mark of a journey successfully completed. The destination is the work, the process, that which is revealed to me as I experience it. This is new ground to me as a goal-oriented, results-focused person. I have no idea if I’ll thrive or wilt in this environment, but I can’t wait fly.