Yep, big momma’s gone and called it a day on the desk job. My last day was on Thursday.
I was starting to itch, y’all – had to get out of there.
Nothing wrong with the job. Nothing wrong with me. It’s just the way I’m built. If my wings feel remotely clipped, I feel the urge to fly. The older I’ve gotten, the less I’ve been able to tolerate working in a 9-5 environment – and in that light, staying put there for 2-and-a-half months has been quite an achievement considering I wanted to walk after the first week.
I’d grown a bit attached to the staff there actually as they’re really quite nice. And very helpful too. It’s harder to leave a nice job than a crappy one. There was one of the folks there who I don’t think liked me very much though. I picked up on it a while ago but what can you do? It was just a feeling because he wasn’t too obvious about it. Anyway, I brushed it aside. Told myself I was imagining it. But it kinda came to a head on my last day when he got a bit stroppy ‘cos I was having a convo with a colleague. I mean, there was nothing else to do in the office at the time. I wasn’t gonna go all comatose like some kind of frikkin android on standby ’til the next task came along.
No hard feelings, though. I sought comfort in the fact that I’d be moving on in a couple of hours.
The staff gave me a box of chocolates as a leaving gift which was really sweet of them. I opened it and shared it with everyone (including ‘him’). They’re a great bunch of people and if I was office-inclined, it would have been my work environment of choice.
But Big Mama’s got to move on. She needs to fly.
Soooo what happens next?
Erm, will get back to you on that — in the next post or two.