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Thursday, January 6, 2022

fracture

"My dad is...my person."

I tearfully choked that out to a supervisor at my old job, when I was quitting. Last Christmas, my dad had a heart attack, and on New Years Eve, he had a triple bypass. And on New Years Eve, my boss got mad, screamed and yelled, and stomped his feet because I put in for 16 hours of overtime. 

Without going into the boring details of government finance, the end of the year is the highest volume of work we have all year. Every person gets raises, and in my old position I had an unbelievable amount of work to do. 

And when I made it back into the office after the first of the year, I went into my supervisor's office and said "I'm done. I'm not doing this anymore. I applied for a different position." 

And he said "What if you don't get that job. Are you prepared to just quit?" 

"I am."

When I was young, my mom worked weekends, so a lot of the time, it was just me and my dad. He took me to all of the state parks in the area. He was at every single event I had, whether I was involved or not. He showed me the best places to ride my bike. He taught me how to read a map and navigate. He taught me how to use tools. He loves me with a fierceness that I hope Isaiah feels from me.

So when someone is screaming about 16 hours of overtime, when one of the people who mean the most in the world to me is in a hospital operating room, having a machine keep him alive, yes, I have absolutely had enough. On New Years Eve, I said to my husband "I'm getting a new job. I can't do this anymore".

We weren't able to visit my dad, because of Covid, so we had a family zoom meeting the night before he had surgery. And I finally understood why my mom was so upset when I was sick. It is miserable to see someone that means so much to you, be sick and look vulnerable. He's our strong, silent pillar. 

And he made it through surgery, and is back to living his normal life. 

When I went in to work on January 1, 2021 (which was a holiday, but I had work to do) I applied for my current job. And it's the best thing I've ever done for myself. I gave so much of my life to that place, and I don't think it was recognized because I handled it well. I know my shit, and the best part is, I know my worth. And I finally know how to leave when I'm not appreciated. 

But that brought me a whole new world of questions. Do I tell my interviewers that I have MS? 

I haven't interviewed for a job since I was 23. I was a smartass then, but it has gotten so much worse. I'm a government employee.

But that wasn't the hardest part of my interview, the hardest part was politely telling the Judge that I wanted to work for that I wanted to leave my job for a position with less money. Because if there is one thing you don't do, it's voluntarily take a pay cut. 

One of the first questions they asked me was "Why do you want to work here?" and it just all came out. 

"I enjoy the work I do, but in 2017 I was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. It is well controlled and I haven't used an extended leave since I was diagnosed. And the environment that I'm in, is making me worse."

Because it absolutely was. My body was shutting down. I can take all the miracle drugs in the world, but I can't expect them to work if I don't do my part. 

So I left. I became part of the Millennial Exodus. The Great Resignation. And not one bit of me regrets it.

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