Last week I drove to Houston to meet with my direct manager and inform him of my intentions. I have been assigned to him for over a year now, and although he has little control over my career path other than quarterly reviews, he's been a supportive and understanding voice for me in a management system that can sometimes more resemble cacophony of screaming (figuratively speaking, that is. I rarely get yelled at unless it's by a client).
Since then it's been a slew of meetings that have ranged from well-intentioned queries as to my reasons for quitting all the way to virtual interrogations and a tenacious sort of bargaining "Are you sure you want to quit? Really sure? You're sure you won't change your mind?" They offered me the chance to apply for another position in their research and development center -- a "chance to apply" mind you, not an actual offer of the position. I read the job description and briefly considered it -- the research and development center was the only segment I would have aspired to enter once leaving the field if I had stuck around that long -- but I realized the job in question would bore me to tears and of all my options that was the least desirable.
This whole process is what I imagine breaking up with a clingy boyfriend might resemble, and I feel a bit drained, emotionally, from the entire thing.
One thing that has buoyed my spirits is the support I have received from my friends. I have found that everyone who knows me personally, whom I have felt a true connection to, is thrilled for me and entirely supportive of my decision. It's only the managers and coworkers I have had little interaction with that have acted otherwise. It seems like the people who know me know that this job is not for me anymore.
So I have just over two weeks left before turning in my flame-retardant coveralls and ID badge-with-radiation dosimeter. It is yet unclear whether I will be going to another rig before then, but I guess only time will tell.
And I would like to thank all of my family and friends for their concerned calls and emails today asking if I were out of harm's way when the rig Deepwater Horizon had an explosion. Luckily I have been on dry land for the past week and a half, and no one I know or work with was on that rig at the time. In the meantime we're all praying that they find the last few missing workers safe and sound.
2 comments:
My own life, in a sense, seems to have been nothing other than a succession of decision times. Once you're determined, simply try your very best, but always believe that what will happen will happen.
Stay Genki!
Holly, We are all grateful for these blogs. They are a look into a profession that few of us understand or experience. We look forward to your next career and perhaps some other fascinting stories. Thanks for sharing and best of luck in your new path!
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