When the girl rock band I co-founded/fronted broke up in college, my friends said it was the end of an era. The feelings that surrounded the occurrence at the time were a mixture of sadness and relief all in one hard-to-distinguish package. Would it seem funny that I sort of feel the same way now after having my last day of work?
Now don’t get me wrong. I am overjoyed that I no longer have to repeat my repetitive lines over and over, call after call, day after day… after day. I am not sad that I will never have to deal with another angry customer ever again. And, no, I will not find it hard to move on to my next adventures in life. Yet, there is still some small lingering mixed feeling I can’t quite put my finger on, just sitting in the pit of my stomach.
This is probably normal, right?
I’ve only been done for a day now, so I’m thinking this is just me not realizing I’m officially gone. It’s like when people lose a limb, but they can still “feel” it. In that sense, I know I’ve quit, but there’s still the feeling that I will return to the hustle and bustle on Monday morning as if nothing changed. This is my haunting limb.
A part of me will miss being at that level of knowledge I achieved with my position. A part of me will miss the people I grew to know over our time working together. Another part of me says, “Who cares?! I’ve gotta pack my bags!”
Oh, yeah. I leave for Spain in T-Minus 4 days!!!!!
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