I hate exit interviews. I sit here staring at my computer screen. Still trying to wrap my mind about the event that transpired two days ago. My body still attempting to recover from the senseless torture I allowed myself to get put through over the last two years. Some were surprised by my actions, simply because many of my complaints were perceived to be jovial in nature. Others, who truly knew me, were surprise by the fact that it happened now, not before.
I hate my job. Well, the last one. It never completed me in any way, nor did it feel like I was doing any good. All it made me feel was that I was needed and valuable because without me the company would be completely lost. In many instances, it is true. However, I still suffer from pangs of guilty about some of the people I left behind. They deserved better than this. In fact, so did I.
It was not always like this. When I was hired on, it was a great position. I did not have to deal with calls, the public or anyone outside of the office. I had a good responsibility, which I enjoyed, but after six months, they decided to automate my section and pushed me over to where I dreaded – customer service. I was originally happy when I was first hired because it was my first experience outside of customer service, which I had spent much of my adult career.
In fact, it was the reason I left my job before that. I knew that I was done working in the retail/customer service field. When I spoke to the president of the company in the interview, it was no calls. No customer related issues. It was me and my reports. Once I was moved, I felt everything that I did not want to deal with again. Customer complaints, entitlement, hypocrisy and sheer gall to not do things because they felt they didn’t need to follow rules. Even government mandated rules.
Over the next two years, I tried to rationalize the job and my demands. I began to think maybe I was making too big a deal about this. People have worked for forty-years at a company and hated every minute of it. I shouldn’t be so different. During that time, I found myself being reminded that this position was not something I signed up for. This was not the original job I was promised. It was that resentment that kept coming back at me. If this was the job and I accepted it, I would only have myself to blame.
But it wasn’t the original job.
That had been taken away and somehow, I believe he knew this all along.
Many promises were being made to me about moving me out of there. Utilize my other talents to improve the company. Eventually, two years would have gone by and all the lip service didn’t mean anything anymore. I knew it was only a matter of time. I tried to do the “just punch a clock” mentality but I am not like that. I must remotely like my job to do well at it. I didn’t. In fact. I hated it. So much that I would wake up with a sense of dread in the morning. No one should live like that day after day.
In the end, the cards were stacked against me. I looked around me on that Tuesday morning and began to wonder what am I doing here? A few friends I turned to said they knew my struggle (one lived it with me for a time) and would support me. They knew it was time. I knew it was time.
Without anyone noticing, I placed all (most) of my personal belongings in a bag, including my two desk plants, shutdown my computer and rose. I turned to a sweet co-worker and I said bye. She gasped and then proceeded to nod. She knew. We hugged and walked to the assistant supervisor’s desk. I repeated by departing word, she was sorry but she knew it was right. I handed her my keys and I walked out the front door. Not looking back. Once news spread, I received a couple of text, mostly from the people I liked. The others, I knew couldn’t care less even if they tried.
So, I sit here staring at my computer screen. Wondering if I made a mistake. Could I have worked through it like I did over the last two years? Was my mental and emotional health worth anything? I ran through the emotions: anger, shock, worry and then resolute. I knew somehow, I would figure out if this was the best decision. That night, I had the best sleep I have had in a very long time and did not dread the sun. That is my exit interview.