I’ve done it, I’ve handed in my notice!
In a way it was harder than I expected, but in another it was much easier. I wasn’t sure how my boss would react (he’s, er, unpredictable at the best of times) but he was actually really supportive, if a little shocked. I shouldn’t have doubted him.
The whole situation though, reminded me of a relationship break-up, which I suppose makes sense. To say I fell head over heels in love with my job is a massive understatement. In fact, I had a massive crush on it long before I ever met it. (If a poster of it had been available when I was 16, it would have sooo been in my locker.) At the start, in those exciting first years, I skipped into the office every morning, brimming with enthusiasm, willing to do pretty much anything to make it work. I enjoyed telling people what I did, even though I was earning virtually nothing. I was proud of my job, I wanted to show it off and excitedly introduced it to my friends and family at the start of every month.
But then, after around four years or so, the relationship began to sour, and it took more and more effort to make myself happy in it. Other, more fun jobs, with less responsibility, started to catch my eye and I resented having to put so much effort into a situation I felt almost trapped in. I still loved my job, but I just wasn’t in love with it. It hadn’t changed but I had. It was a genuine case of it’s not you, it’s me.
But now my job has moved on, and even though the break-up was my decision, it did sting like a slap to the face when I was replaced, something that I definitely did not expect, since I was the dumper and not the dumpee. In a few months I won’t recognise the magazine I put years of blood sweat and, most recently, tears into. It will look and feel different to me. Someone else (an amazingly talented and utterly deserving person, it has to be noted) will be one half of a couple I was part of for so long. But that’s a good thing, I keep telling myself. It was time for me to go, to give someone else a chance. Still, I see a weekend of ice cream, wine and a large box of Kleenex in my very near future. That’s normal though, right?