Cleaning Closets (Again)

I woke up Monday morning feeling pretty damn good about myself. I was getting the hang of my very technically complicated, high pressure job. Finally. I have always believed the steeper the learning curve, the more enjoyable the work will be down the road. This was proving to be true. I worked all weekend nailing that theory down.

Monday is also online One on One time. My manager, a breath of hot air if ever there was one, must have caught himself in his zipper that morning, because he was twitching and argumentative, taking cell calls from a family member and hyperventilating.

He told me the plan going forward was to “dig in”. No more ‘Mr. Nice Guy” with clients. My numbers were great but we need to kick it up a notch going forward. He was describing overcoming objections with a billy club. He was telling me how to shame clients to our will. I will have no of that, thank you.

While he’s rambling and arguing with his father, I start pulling my papers together and throwing them in the trash bucket behind me. All of which he can see on his computer screen. I was so done. I can tell you, that was the last thing I expected that day. But once my switch gets flipped, it’s over.

It’s true, you don’t quit companies, you quit managers.

Within 30 minutes, I printed off three offer letters while I furiously cleaned my closets. Cleaning closets is a ritual I developed over the years as life would twist its way around me. A cathartic exercise that usually precedes a massive life change. This episode did not disappoint. I am on to another great adventure. Yipee!

Now it’s Thursday morning and I’m sitting in my big beautiful kitchen with my hands folded, watching my sun dappled dog as she eats to her hearts content knowing Daddy will be able to provide. Always.

So here I sit, dazed, delighted, and so full of gratitude, I have to unbutton my shirt.


Please note: I welcome comments that are offensive, illogical or off-topic from readers in all states of consciousness.

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