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“But, why?” Glen asks, taking my hand in a firm handshake.
“It’s time for me to move on, Glen.” My life has been full of certainty for far too long, and I can’t keep using my job as a crutch anymore. I need to find something that gives me purpose and fills me with joy instead of stress. This year has taught me that much.
“And you’re sure about this?” He stands up while I nod. “Are you leaving us for a competitor?” he jokes.
“Of course not, nothing like that. I’m going to take some time off,” I reassure him, “and then figure out what I want to do next.”
“Things won’t be the same here without you,” Glen says, retracting his hand.
“I provided you with some recommendations for my replacement on the last page.” I point to the deck sitting in front of him.
Glen quickly reviews the slide. Looking up at me with amusement, he says, “Grant Weatherly?”
“I know Waterman’s CFO is probably an odd choice for my replacement, given the circumstances, but I assure you he’d be a good fit.”
“He’ll have some pretty big shoes to fill,” Glen says, smiling at me.
* * *
“I still can’t believeyou’re leaving,” Miles says while I pack up my desk.
He was the first person to know of my departure – even before Glen. We’ve worked together for such a long time, I couldn’t blindside him. He’d become like extended family.
“I’ve been here most of my career, and I let it consume my life,” I say, shutting down my laptop and closing it for the last time. “It’s time for me to find out what’s next.”
His expression is sullen as he clutches his tablet to his chest.
“What will you do now?” Miles asks.
Taking a deep breath, I level my eyes on him. “I don’t know.” It’s the most honest answer I can give. Not because I haven’t thought about it, but I just needed time to breathe before I did. If I learned anything this past year it’s that I need to do things for myself, and I need time to find out what I want. Autopilot is a dangerous switch to turn on because you can lose yourself so quickly, and it’s hard to turn off.
“What if I don’t like my new boss?” Miles whines with a hint of panic.
Leaning my hip against the desk, I remind him, “You didn’t likemeat first, either.”
“That’s because you were rude,” Miles says, rolling his eyes.
“Have I changed since the day we met?” I ask.
Miles looks up at the ceiling while he contemplates his answer. “Not really.”
Smiling, I push off from the desk and finish placing my personal items in a box Miles brought from the copy room.
“You grew on me,” he finally says, while I finish placing the last remaining items into the box.
“Change is bad for my complexion,” he huffs. “Besides,” Miles reaches over the box and touches my arm, “no one could ever replaceyou.”
Leaving is bittersweet, because although I won’t miss the constant stress, I will missmostof the people.
“I doubt Grant Weatherly will have you schedule bikini waxes,” I tease.
“Is he hot, ya know, works out, but like not too much, because I don’t like a lot of bulk, that scares me.” Miles follows me out of the office.
“What happened to Edmund?” I ask, curiously.
“We moved in together but that doesn’t mean I can’t look,” Miles says, trotting alongside me as I walk down the row of offices.
“Um, congrats, I think.”
