Four weeks ago I was ready. I was trying to meet with my boss so I could give my notice. The Assistant Dean who reigned over our office, moved on to another school at the end of last year. So MY boss has been busy. Like, really busy. As in two days in a row I could not drop into her office to give her my notice. it was killing me. I finally scheduled an appointment to tell her. I needed to get this over with: I had made the decision to move on. In the past year, there’s been a lot of BS; including awful salaries and changes that are making our heads explode. But I wanted to give as much notice as I could: at least four weeks.
On the day I gave my boss my notice I had this awful feeling in my stomach. A weird, uncomfortable, nervous, excited feeling. I was maybe going to throw up. Five people had left our office since August. I was going to be the sixth. It’s such a challenge when someone leaves because our office already is understaffed. But I was going to do it. Because what it comes down to is the students and what my job essentially is: I don’t want to help them anymore. I don’t want to advise. I don’t want to tell a student something in a meeting in November, email her the same thing in December and then have to help her find a solution to her graduation problem in February because she didn’t do a damn thing I told her to do before the semester started. (<this happened today, I do not make this crap up.)
Despite the horrible, mean, irresponsible students and all the stupid, buearocratic BS aside, I’m going to miss my coworkers so much. Best group of people anyone could ever hope to work with. Probably the smartest group on campus (with the least resources and most shit slinging to deal with – I may be biased, but seriously, you would be frightened to know the amount of stupid that runs rampant at an institution of higher learning).
So, one more week here. The place that was my first big kid job. I learned a lot. But I’m ready for new (and non-advising) adventures.