Just over two weeks ago, I left my job. But it was over four weeks ago that I submitted my resignation. I had just returned from a trip to Arizona. I was worried that colleagues would interpret my trip as an interview trip. But the reason I wanted to time it after the trip was so that nobody could demand that I work and not take days off.
I was nervous when I asked to Skype with James. He must have thought that I was going to talk about the Jaguar project. Specifically about how he asked me to lead the “knitting” project, which I didn’t even understand—a content inventory type of thing? I wasn’t too pleased with the whole idea, because I didn’t even have the role of being a creative director. I had decided simply to be a researcher, because that’s where I saw the need clearly. And it was always constantly, what do you want your role to be? Do you think as a Senior UX Designer that’s what you should do?
Which is quite a yes/no answer. How can I say no? If I said no, then I would obviously be seen as a non team player. and that’s what motivated me to did the task half-heartedly.
And then I submitted my resignation.
I had been tracking my own feelings about the entire thing for awhile. I knew it. Everybody knew what i felt since I discussed it so extensively in November and December, until James suddenly decided that the 1×1 meetings were useless.
So during the call, we exchange pleasantries with smile. Then I fidgeted.
I said something along the lines of “i want to tell you directly that I am submitting my resignation.”
His smile dropped.
Then I continued, “I want to emphasize how I appreciate your support and everything during my short time.”
Then I found myself unable to veer from that, which was for the best.
I let him speak, but I could feel the awkwardness creep back in, so I repeated it again.
Then it was over.
The following two weeks were filled with my attempts at closure. To inform people. To close my projects. To transition effectively. To ask about policies and procedures. I was a little miffed that my last day was moved up earlier, but that probably was for the best.
But then during the final call, he was all casual and informal, which added unneeded levity to the serious situation. I am leaving, I kept thinking, don’t you care at all?
I sent my final emails to at least 40 people thanking them for their support, dedication and everything.
Later, as I sealed up the boxes with the monitor, the laptop and its accessories, a sense of closure arrived. It’s done. Relief. Not yet. I dropped it off promptly at FedEx and chose one of the expensive options.
The following day, Brian emailed to tell me about a quote that posted on the cubicle walls. Your Legacy, he wrote.
Relief soon settled in the next two weeks. I took on a few freelance projects. I found myself volunteering for various things. And some full-time opportunities came way. Soon, I thought, soon.