For the whole second half of August, I dreaded coming to work. It was not like any specific individual I dreaded, but the whole situation. My work life was split into two uneven pieces. One was the good feeling of being helpful to the customers. This feeling also came with bitterness, because in most cases they only reached out when a crisis was imminent, and even then, I could rarely convince them to make substantial changes to their systems. Everyone would choose a band-aid instead of proper healing. But at least I could resolve major crises. Each time, customers would send me a Slack message: “Thank you, Hettie!” I would tell them, jokingly, but not really jokingly: Please review us on Google. I knew no one above me in the chain of command would ever see these “Thank you” messages.
And the rest of my work life was absolutely Kafkian. When you feel like everyone around you is going insane, it’s very difficult to keep believing in yourself and not question your own sanity. For all these last two weeks, when no one in my group talked to me, I had only one thought: I want to retire immediately. I can’t wait till I turn 65. I can’t be in the office anymore. I am not going to do Postgres anymore. I told one of my fellow escorts during a shift that if it wasn’t for health insurance, I would quit on the spot.
And then, suddenly, it was granted. In the most bizarre way possible, it was granted. I feel blessed Boris was there with me then, because I was going through an emotional storm. On the one hand, I got exactly what I was wishing for for several weeks. On the other hand, the brakes were hit too suddenly, and I came to a stop from running at 100 MPH, and I wasn’t the one driving. The real blessing was that we got more time together than we planned, and it happened at the best possible time of the year – at the end of summer. We were able to go on more long bike rides together than we ever could. I went to the beach every day (less hopelessly rainy days). I was thankful for the place I live more than ever before, if that is possible. In a week, I achieved my long-time goal of getting 6 hours of sleep (although now I think that 5.5 is still what I need most nights).
Overall, it was a gift, but the fact that I didn’t have time to fully plan the exit presented several challenges – more on that coming soon!
