>>> The World of oOo v.3.0

Finally. The Torture Is Over.

You know, sometimes, you just hold on to a job for all the wrong reasons.

Just so you know, "job security" isn't just an oxymoron. It's also a nice euphemism for "cowardice".

There comes a point when a paycheck, no matter how comfortable, doesn't justify the sacrifice of selling yourself short for 540 long minutes five days a week, year after year after year.

It doesn't justify being talked down to by people whose egos are inversely proportional to their IQ.

It doesn't justify working your ass off to try and scoop water out of a slowly sinking ship.

For the last 3.5 years, I tried and tried and tried to help a good company become great. The potential was there. IS there, still.

But I couldn't.

My last conversation with my boss essentially came down to the truth. Finally: This company doesn't want to change. End of story.

I've been here before.

Imagine a child grinding down his favorite toy. Imagine telling him "you're going to break it if you keep doing that." Imagine the child telling you he doesn't care. "It's MY toy."

Imagine a daily dose of that for three years.

Imagine tens of millions of dollars in potential sales, lost. Imagine the potential for a majority market share, lost. Imagine an international onslaught, lost. Imagine awards for design, environmental impact, and maybe even a spot in Fast Company's best a few years from now.

Lost.

I could tell you stories about this place. You would shake your head and think I were making it up.

But now it's over, and I am glad.

I cleared my office. Most of my stuff was already packed, so it didn't take long. I said goodbye to those who deserved a handshake or a hug. I drove off without turning around. Without looking in the rear-view mirror. Without even thinking about it.

A mile or two away, I laughed at the thought that I had taken my last shit there.

I drove off without one fucking ounce of regret... except maybe for the fact that I should have quit a year ago, when it first became obvious that I was in the wrong place.

It didn't start as a dead-end, but it turned into one fast.

I could say that I was hired under false pretenses, but that wouldn't be entirely accurate.

As happy as I am that it is over, I can't help but feel a little tense. I have a wife and two kids to think about. I have a mortgage. I have bills. I have a very finite amount of cash. I need to find my next gig kind of fast.

But I'm not that worried.

I already have an offer that will satisfy my immediate needs, while I transition from T&S to my next gig. I have friends who know people. I have a strong 'maybe' from a company I love. But even if none of that works, I have skills. I have talents. I have wits. I have a camera and a keyboard.

That's all I need.

Other than the temporary uncertainty thing, I'm excited. Every day that goes by, I get more excited about what comes next. About the fact that I'll soon have put T&S behind me. Right now, it's still too new. But in a week or two, I'll be over it completely.

In six months, I'll be kicking myself for not having left sooner.

Just so you know, I had projects to see through.

I had things to work out.

I had old skins to shed.

The wisest words said to me recently were "Everything happens for a reason".

It does.

The overwhelming response to this post's companion on buzznet made me smile a big one. Confidence is great, but encouragement from a lot of friends really helps.

It helps a lot.

Just so you know, I didn't tell anyone off. I didn't speak my mind. I didn't settle scores. No, I surprised myself by being kind and reserved. I thanked my bosses for the three years I spent on their payroll. I wished them the best.

I was every bit the man I never thought I could be.

I had planned for something a little more memorable. More Tyler. But I hadn't expected to feel so sorry for them. That wasn't part of the plan. Sitting there, I realized how monumental a failure this was for them, and it floored me. First Mark. Then Luke. Now me. I felt sorry for them. I felt so sorry for them that all of my animosity towards them just melted away.

I hadn't anticipated that one at all. Pity. Compassion. My gentler side took me by surprise.

Still, I left my wall of spray valve prints for them to take down.

I left a picture of wild flowers I ripped off Matt's buzzbolg, pinned to the partition. Next to it, I left Jack Spade's three laws of business:

1. The bigger you get, the smaller you should act.
2. Never believe anything you have done is successful.
3. Your people are your product.

Adequate.

They'll all still be there six months from now, gathering dust. Like the rest of them.

Me, I finally have my life back, and the timing couldn't be better.

I'm finally sleeping again.

Life is good.

:)

posted by oOo @ 05:02