Bye Bye Bottom Rung

The unthinkable is happening.

I’m movin’ on up! I’ve accepted a new job, and I tendered two-weeks notice of my resignation last Friday. This means today is DAY 10 of my ten-day walk through purgatory. Focusing ardently on the old job, daydreaming about the new job, caring more than you’ve ever cared about projects you’ve always hated and now will not see through to completion. Working hard, but hardly working.

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Jacked From: Wired.com

Reaching for Rung Two

Isn’t it interesting, to say the least, running through the rush of emotions that come with runging-up? When you shoot out an application you feel cynically optimistic (“I probably won’t hear anything back on this but, hey, you never know.”). While you wait for any word back at all, confirmation of receipt even, you descend steadily until you are cynically depressed (“What was I thinking; the hiring committee is surely circled ’round my application sullying my 100lb ivory resume with donut-powdered fingers pointing and laughing at my sandbox-level bullet points like “Editor of the Year for a publication even a mother couldn’t love.”).

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Jacked From: Faqs.org

Tippie-toes on Rung One, Fingers Brushing Rung Two

Then you get a call: they want see you in person. You are alternately elated and, as always, cynical. This is excellent! This is terrible! Once you get in the door, you can easily win over even the stodgiest turnip with your glowing personality, and professional sheen peppered with your down-to-earth humor and humility. Once you get in the door they will instantly know that you are too young to know anything and too old to be trained from square one. They will love your free easy pattern of speech. They will hate That you are in a suit while they are on Casual Friday.

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Jacked From: Thefitnessrevolution.org

And what about your present job? You cloak yourself in cynical secretive denial (“Nobody here has any idea what I am up to.”) You calendar yourself out for a long lunch, which is odd since you ever eat lunch and never ever leave the office to do it. You show up on the day of your interview in your sleek black power suit of armor; hair done, nails done, pearls and lipstick on and straight. Personnel are instantly on notice since you’re not wriggling into your blazer with a slingback pump dangling precariously half-on as you rush your ponytail-and-mascara-ought-to-do-it self into the morning meeting just as it commences.

A Firm Grasp

Weeks later, you get another call: they like you, they want you, they simply must have you. You are so elated that you forget to be cynical (“Forget Sally Field! They like ME. They really really like ME.”) They are willing to overlook the facts that your fingerprints are illegible for background checking and that you’ve had 37 residential addresses in the past ten years spanning three states and a US territory. You win!

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Jacked From: JohnLund.com

And what about your present job? Who cares? None of this will matter in ten short business days. All of the dropped balls; leave them on the floor, they’re not your problem. Missing files? Call off the manhunt and send the blood hounds home; they can stay lost forever. Unreturned phone calls? Leave maybe one more message just to say you tried, but if they never call back it’s no big deal. Unpaid invoices? It was not your call, not your money, and never your bill to pay. Well . . . Almost.

The Worst Part: Pulling Up

As it turns out, you’re NOT in the clear. You’re in the gray. Projects that have been pending throughout your entire lifespan at the job must now be summarily wrapped up, or worse, explained to a subordinate, passed off, and tied in a satin un-messable bow with the expectation that your assistant should be able to achieve what you never could – timely inexpensive completion to the client’s and the boss’s satisfaction. (Heh.) Thus beginneth my walk through the valley of the shadow of job termination.

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Jacked From: EvaluationSupport.org

Wrapping up, handing off, heading up, and moving out.

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