So. I did it. Friday was the big day and I walked out of my job — my career — for the forseeable future.
And it was hard.
For all of the excitement that I had leading up to this change, it hit me like a ton of bricks around 4:30 pm that day.
I had been running on adrenaline up until that point. On Thursday, all of the celebrations took place. First, I had the office hours party (very civilized and sweet, complete with cupcakes), then an after-work happy hour (slightly less civilized, with cocktails flowing), and, finally, a dinner with some of my best work pals (decidedly less civilized, filed under Epic Fun). When I arrived to my office for the last time Friday morning, despite said celebratory libation intake, I was still feeling great because of the excitement around my feature on Theta Mom. It was all so lovely. And so many of you stopped by to offer your amazing words of support, congratulations and — importantly — advice and caution about this transition. Thank you for that.
Ever the procrastinator, I had not packed up one stitch of my office until this point. The point at which I harbored a hangover. The point at which I was happily responding to the lovely ladies of the Theta Mom community. The point at which this transition all became very real.
As I packed, I was able to lighten things up by sharing some of the office artifacts I unearthed with my colleagues over the course of the day. Photos. Old files(because nothing says nostalgia more than “Hey, remember this shitshow of a project?”). Business cards from people I could no longer place.
And my shoes. Eight pairs of shoes. Because I could never do that glamorous Manhattan commute in heels. I left my good work shoes in a file drawer to wear during business hours, and went to and fro in far more comfortable and less attractive footwear. Function over fashion, people.
I also found what I affectionately called the technology time capsule.
Why did I feel compelled to save not one, but two flip phones? I’ll never know. And the vintage Blackberry. You know, pre-track ball — the one with the wheel. The one I couldn’t talk or text on.
I held it together pretty well until late in the afternoon, when my original boss — the woman who hired me — came by to bid me farewell. With a card and a gift. Then I sort of lost it.
I bounced back just in time for another long-time colleague and friend to come over and say her goodbye. Then another. And another. This was starting to sting. This place, as much as I was ready to leave it, was still dear to me. And it hit me that the next time I would be there, in whatever capacity — social or work-related — it would never be as I left it. I would not be in the inner circle, in the know. It would no longer be mine, but just a piece of my history.
And when I had packed the last shoe and purged the last outdated file, I was left with this.
I was feeling it then.
I walked out for the last time with two of my work friends, went home sort of numb and pretty much went to bed. Call me dramatic, but the week had taken a lot out of me.
But I’m A-OK, don’t you worry! You know why? Because you SAHMs have been keeping secrets from me that I uncovered today. You sneaky gals didn’t tell me that, after everyone goes to work, it becomes 80 degrees outside on a Monday in April here in New Jersey (for those of you unfamiliar with our climate, see “Endless Winter of 2010-2011”).
Wait, what? Just today we get the 80 degrees? Oh. OK. Still. I’ll take it. It was a nice way to kick off my new gig.
Overall, I have no major developments to report in Weekday Household Management — but I did learn a few things. For example, from the desk of Captain Obvious, the whole town screeches to a halt when the schools are dismissed. My kids are too young for real school, so I hadn’t thought about this. But damn. Driving around at 2:45 for a few errands is a mistake you don’t make twice.
Also, the Easter decorators are out in full force. I think I need a door wreath, at a minimum, before I’m kicked out of town. The woman up the street pulled out the big guns and has multi-colored faux Easter eggs, the size of an eight year-old, strewn about. Where do you even buy these? You know, if I wanted to. See, this is the stuff I never noticed before.
But most importantly, I uncovered the afternoon route of my new BFF, pictured here.
And yeah, I’ll admit that I reached for my now non-existent work Blackberry more than a dozen times. What was I missing — a meeting, a call, an email? Nope. For once, I wasn’t missing a thing. But what can I say? Old habits die hard.
The drawer of shoes was hilarious. I would have done the same thing.
If I had time (aka hadn’t procrasinated so much), I would have put together some sort of sale/giveaway in the office to get rid of them — because, frankly, I don’t plan to wear a rigid/structured shoe anytime soon.
From the shoes to the Errands you will never do again at 2:45–what a picture of your adventure you created for us! Though I was not joining the SAHM ranks, changing schools for me- after 9 years in one building, I get the emotion. Jubilation and sadness all at the same time!
Exactly. It was a little bit of a Sybil experience.
You’re free! I’m so excited for you. (How long have I been gone? I love your new site design! I hope I’m not two weeks late to say so.)
Thanks. It’s good to have you back!
This post gave me goosebumps! Good luck with your new management team and grab a hold of this precious time! Congratulations!
Thank you so much!
Sounds like the PERFECT day one! I’m so happy for you! 🙂
Thanks Patty. The sun went away for days two and three but all’s well 🙂
Ooh, what was the name of that ice cream pop that had banana/cherry sorbet covered in chocolate? Ooh, do they still have chump pops, the ones with the chocolate bar inside? Don’t forget to turn your ices upside down and eat the crunchy side first. I’m jealous about your new BFF. 🙂
I’m so glad Day One went well. Here’s to many more. [slurp–ignore my cherry moustache]
This is why I like you: You focus on the important part of the post.
What an new journey for you!
So great to meet you and chat this evening.:)
Thanks for stopping by, Kerri. Great meeting you too.
I love the lines and pictures of the box of shoes, and the phones, funny and strange what we keep in our desk drawers. It’s only the first post of yours I have read so I don’t know the reasoning behind the shift in your live, but I do like your voice, it’s strong and honest, as well as refreshing.
Brenda
Thanks very much, Brenda — so glad you stopped by!
Proud of you Kim. Alicia
Aw thanks 🙂
Oh, I am so, so jealous of you (written from my seriously-less clean desk).
I have a shoe cabinet. 🙂
Please write more about how much the transition SUCKS and you hate the fact that you’re home so the rest of us won’t envy you quite, quite so much.
Good luck with the pool.
I knew I wasn’t alone in having a shoe cabinet!
Thanks so much for stopping by. As of now, I can only report denial and shellshock. It’s really just as if I had the week off from work, but somehow lost my Blackberry. So it doesn’t feel real yet. Be sure to come back, because I’m sure that my upcoming tales of domestic disasters, tantrums and neighborhood politics will keep you less envious than you might think 🙂
Wow! This is all huge news. Just got back from vacation and read through the updates which became increasingly more exciting! Congratulations – something tells me Fordeville (love the new look) will be even more hilarious now that your corporate chapter is behind you. No question the universe has a lot more for you to experience on a daily basis now that you’re “free”!
Thanks Pam. It’s all very exciting and still highly surreal. And while I don’t want to underestimate the blog fodder that Corporate America is capable of generating, I do hope that my new life will still prove to be entertaining — if not to me, then at least to all of you 🙂
Congratulations, Kim! I am so happy for you!! I give you my very best & most beautiful wishes! All moms should do the same thing if they could!! : )
Thanks very much.