I was prepared yesterday morning to find enthusiasm - somehow - for this project. I was determined that I wouldn't let my frustration get the best of me once again. I turned the radio up high on the drive to the office and sang along at the top of my lungs so that when I arrived, I was actually smiling. As a step in that direction I even compiled a few extracts from my private journal into Wednesday's entry, hoping that getting my dissatisfaction down in writing - put together in a cohesive way - would help to push it out of the way even for just a day.
As I was typing out the note to my notification list for Wednesday's entry, my cell phone rang.
I got the job. I actually got the job.
When he told me, it was all I could do not to either scream my excitement or burst into tears from sheer happiness. Instead I calmly collected a pen and paper and wrote down all the pertinent details, trying to ignore the fact that my hand was shaking and my heart pounding. And all the while this voice kept screaming in my head, until I could barely sit still "I got it! I got it! I got it!"
I gave my two week notice - first over the phone to my manager and then formally in email. I spent the remainder of the day trying to convince both my own manager and the manager of this project that they really didn't need me to stay down there at corporate - that I could add no value for the remaining two weeks. At 4pm they finally agreed, and I shut down my computer and ran before they could change their minds. I was supposed to meet a friend for dinner but I sent her an email, begging forgiveness. I need to go home, I told her. I desperately need to go home and have it be over, finally over.
This morning I spent some time clearing off the work laptop. I sent an email out to a list of coworkers letting them know I am finally leaving. And more importantly, I sent an email to my manager's direct supervisor, letting him know how incredible she has been through all of this to me, and how much I appreciate her. I needed to let him know that my manager has been one of the few bright spots of my time with the Big Fish. I have wanted to send that email for some time now, but I decided that it was best sent as I walked out the door, when it can do me no good at all.
I drove home last night during the worst of the Bay Area traffic, but I didn't care. I will most likely have to drive back down to corporate at least once to turn in all my things and do my exit interview, but I don't mind. All that matters is that, after wanting and wishing and hoping and working for so long, it's finally over.
I am free. I am finally free.