Happy Anniversary to Me
On Day One, I didn't think about how long it would last. At the beginning of the 2nd month I tried to resign. At the end of the 1st year, there was nothing to resign from. At the beginning of the 2nd year, I was nearly fired. In the middle of the 3rd year I slid back into the arms of workoholism in a pointless attempt to herd the rain. Not only did I fall off the wagon, but I fell off "the train," a term down-the-Mill that stands for being "onboard." Part of the future. A keeper. Lost my "flawless" status, my top-performer ranking, turned in my lieutenant's bars, threatened to move to Texas.
I could never have predicted marking a 4th anniversary at this clown college.
I've never lasted much longer than 4 years at one of these institutes of higher drudgery. I get Senioritis, and by the time some drama occurs (lay-off, buy-out, takeover, relocation) I have divested so much emotionally that I just pack a bag. The same event occuring during my bedazzling first year or my kick-ass-and-take-names 3rd year would see me leading charges up every available parapet. By the time the 4th year hits, I usually slurp my coffee, look over my glasses at whatever sophomore is caught up in the mayhem and say something unhelpful like "What are you going to do about it, though?"
So I am both nervous and calm about this upcoming year. I am pleased to know that very little rattles me anymore, but concerned that my history suggests I may not last much longer anyway. But I won't worry about that now. I'll just take a day of R&R and not check the email, bank up my rest for next Saturday's working day, and look forward to my next vacation. Count the blessings of my Delta Force teammates, my unbelievably gifted boss, the friends I have hung onto who don't ask about The Mill and spend our time together as if we were all blissfully unemployed.
And take it one day at a time.