Imaginary girlfriend

The formal offer of employment from my new job came today by email, so I formally handed in my notice shortly afterwards. It was a mild anticlimax, but it felt good to have put the wheels into motion. A little later, there was a meeting scheduled about how things would run next year. In advance of it, I was asked into the office of one of the senior managers in the team. He started to explain how the job I’m leaving is going to change quite drastically: more publicity and PR; less data handling; increased front-line involvement with communities; and much less time behind a desk. Whilst he didn’t say so directly, he was heavily suggesting that the work of my job would change in such a way that I’d find it much more rewarding than I do at present.

I felt confused, and a little angry. The impression I got was that if I hadn’t have handed in my notice, then the job wouldn’t have been redesigned. I felt I’d been mismanaged, as the changes that were made, if needed, should have been spotted and acted upon before now. I felt undervalued, in that I wasn’t asked about the proposed changes, even though they were to a job that I was doing. I felt really angry that they’d waited until I’d said I was leaving before they set about addressing how shit my job is. I felt even angrier that they’ve made it quite a good job. I feel like I’d planned to leave a party, and, as I’d put my coat on, the music started to get better. I feel like I’d planned to break up with an imaginary girlfriend, only for her to appear at the door that day looking drop dead gorgeous.

I was subjected to a barrage of bodily noises during that meeting, and it really distracted me. On one side of me, there was a guy with a gurgling tummy and a consistent accompanying refrain of “Excuse me,” or “Pardon me.” I didn’t particularly mind, except that every word that the gurgler said in the meeting was in response to his rumbling gut. Lunchtime meetings suck. One the other side of me, one of the attendees made it her business to communicate her agreement with the speaker with a loud “MMMmmmm!” or a “Yes, yes,” or a slow groan. The more she agreed, the more often she groaned. The more often she groaned, the more sexual it sounded, like an office-based When Harry Met Sally. It was gross, and it really put me off. I’m glad I’m leaving.

I quite like some of the work that my job involves, but I don’t like my working conditions, which I express by saying, “I don’t like my job.” Even though the work of my job is going to change, my working conditions won’t. So I’m still getting out as soon as I can.

The imaginary girlfriend still gets the boot too.