Did Nothing Cancel?

Three years ago today, was like any other. Up early. Morning routines. Just another morning at my make-work job.

It was a refreshingly crisp spring day and I slipped out at lunch to use my first ever Groupon: 30 minutes of oxygen therapy. When I emerged from the below-ground clinic, the sun was beaming. The day was gorgeous. I felt spectacular.

Back at work, a dreaded co-worker requested a last minute meeting. Prodding, goading, insisting that I voice my perspective of the toxic work environment we shared. I held my tongue as best as I could. But eventually the truth escaped. It got ugly.

I sincerely wish I held up under attack. That I breathed calmly, kept centred and considered the source.
But I don’t.

I left the onslaught, buzzing. Shaking. My seized up diaphragm barely allowing a breath, I phoned Mark who offered to pick me up. I accepted Mark’s offer (completely out of character). Then, for no apparent reason, cleared my desk of all my stuff.

Minutes into the ride home, Mark said “Quit.”

A feverish tumbling of parameters and consequences.
A snappy resignation letter, speed-written by Mark.
A massive, scary, thrilling relief.

More than twenty five years of full time employment came abruptly to an end. Phew.

My eventual exit interview offered a twist. A brand new position, a signing bonus, much concern, respect and esteem. And a full week to make my choice.

I chose leisure.
And that has made all the difference.

Thank you, sweet, sweet Mark for my beautiful life. Three years and counting.

I am so immensely grateful.

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Lindsay: Oh, hi, Mom. I have the afternoon free.
Lucille: Really? Did “nothing” cancel?
Arrested Development, Burning Love, January 30, 2005.