10:39 am
There's something to be said about sitting alone in the office on your last day. I just don't know what it is.
Perry has scheduled appointments for this morning, and a golf game (seriously) for this afternoon. I haven't seen him yet, though I did speak with him for a moment on the phone. He sounded irritated.
Me too, Perry. Me too.
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Friday, March 30, 2012
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Two Weeks
A fortnight. 336 hours. 14 days.
Last Friday, I gave Perry my two week notice. Two weeks will go by quick. In three days, I will have only one week left. It seems unfair... I would beg for more days, if I were in Perry's shoes. I'm only leaving him with two weeks.
336 hours to get the work ducks in a row, try to hire somebody, or just get used to the fact that I'm leaving. Now, as I write my daily notes, I write them as if they are for somebody else to read. I'm using first and last names and detailing every step, because in 336 hours, I won't be around to explain.
I just organized my pen drawer. Pens, post-it's, a calculator, business cards and folders, all arranged so that the one coming behind me will find what's needed. It was sad. I'm sad at how soon it will be turned over, and no longer mine. In 336 hours, this big granite desk will no longer be mine.
Poor Perry.
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14 days, until I can say that I officially have a new job. 14 days is a long time. 14 nights, I can't sleep. 10 work days that I try not to look so happy.
I've already visited a job site. I've already done some AutoCAD. My new bosses are already lining people up for me to meet. They're getting projects ready for me to start, and I have to wait 14 days until I can.
There's talk about an office that might be mine, but 14 days before I know if it will be. Design interns to hire as assistants, and14 days until I can be called 'a boss'.
... 14 days until I can be called an interior designer.
14 days is a long time. 336 hours... Two whole weeks.
Last Friday, I gave Perry my two week notice. Two weeks will go by quick. In three days, I will have only one week left. It seems unfair... I would beg for more days, if I were in Perry's shoes. I'm only leaving him with two weeks.
336 hours to get the work ducks in a row, try to hire somebody, or just get used to the fact that I'm leaving. Now, as I write my daily notes, I write them as if they are for somebody else to read. I'm using first and last names and detailing every step, because in 336 hours, I won't be around to explain.
I just organized my pen drawer. Pens, post-it's, a calculator, business cards and folders, all arranged so that the one coming behind me will find what's needed. It was sad. I'm sad at how soon it will be turned over, and no longer mine. In 336 hours, this big granite desk will no longer be mine.
Poor Perry.
----------------------------------------------
14 days, until I can say that I officially have a new job. 14 days is a long time. 14 nights, I can't sleep. 10 work days that I try not to look so happy.
I've already visited a job site. I've already done some AutoCAD. My new bosses are already lining people up for me to meet. They're getting projects ready for me to start, and I have to wait 14 days until I can.
There's talk about an office that might be mine, but 14 days before I know if it will be. Design interns to hire as assistants, and14 days until I can be called 'a boss'.
... 14 days until I can be called an interior designer.
14 days is a long time. 336 hours... Two whole weeks.
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
lick it and stick it
I had been staring at the flashing cursor on this blank page for a long time before my fingers finally touched the keyboard. There's so much I want to say, but I feel as though I need to sort it out before putting my roller-coaster thoughts down.
There I go, staring at the cursor again. ...
Marketing, Journalism, non-profit, interior design... a week ago, I would have said that I was completely lost and feeling like a floundering duck. Five days ago, I would say that I want to go into the non-profit sector. Two days ago, I would have told someone that my new path was marketing and journalism and that I was going back to school.
Yesterday. Yesterday, I grabbed at an opportunity within the interior design industry, and today I'm still hanging on. I don't know what this opportunity will provide... it may pan out to be nothing, a whisper in a breeze, or it could be my new future.
The point is that things are changing again... and I feel good. Not fantastic, but better. I feel like I've finally made a decision to move because the stillness was suffocating. I'm going to stir the dust that's settled, puff my cheeks and blow a new path.
I don't know where it's going yet, but it's going. I'm 26. I'm not old, but I'm also not a 22 year old college grad. In exactly 3 years from now, I'll be tip-toeing my way to my 30th birthday. Or shall I say dragging my feet? If I'm not 100% settled by then, it's fine... but at least I won't be statically unsettled anymore.
So there it is. I've been a roller-coaster without a track, and now I've moistened a finger in preparation to turn the page. All I can do now is keep my momentum up and press the finger to the fibers.
There I go, staring at the cursor again. ...
Marketing, Journalism, non-profit, interior design... a week ago, I would have said that I was completely lost and feeling like a floundering duck. Five days ago, I would say that I want to go into the non-profit sector. Two days ago, I would have told someone that my new path was marketing and journalism and that I was going back to school.
Yesterday. Yesterday, I grabbed at an opportunity within the interior design industry, and today I'm still hanging on. I don't know what this opportunity will provide... it may pan out to be nothing, a whisper in a breeze, or it could be my new future.
The point is that things are changing again... and I feel good. Not fantastic, but better. I feel like I've finally made a decision to move because the stillness was suffocating. I'm going to stir the dust that's settled, puff my cheeks and blow a new path.
I don't know where it's going yet, but it's going. I'm 26. I'm not old, but I'm also not a 22 year old college grad. In exactly 3 years from now, I'll be tip-toeing my way to my 30th birthday. Or shall I say dragging my feet? If I'm not 100% settled by then, it's fine... but at least I won't be statically unsettled anymore.
So there it is. I've been a roller-coaster without a track, and now I've moistened a finger in preparation to turn the page. All I can do now is keep my momentum up and press the finger to the fibers.
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