Yesterday was my last day of work. It was almost bittersweet. I told everyone who cared to ask that I was excited for the new job. I lied through my teeth.
I'm not as excited as I should be for a new job. It isn't the best time for me to move to another job as we're knee-deep in looking at houses and considering putting down offers. It especially doesn't help that I'm moving to a part-time adventure. Oh, and I only have 7 months of school and a thesis left.
I'm mostly sad. I had wonderful co-workers. I loved my commute down the hill. I loved the flexibility. Two people made my work life hell this year. Enough for me to leave. Half of the office knows why I chose to leave. More than half have the same issues with the two. I'm really sad that even at my last day, I couldn't expressed the pent up frustration. I was disappointed that I couldn't stand up for my fellow coworkers. I feel like I just walked away.
R picked me up from work last night and said all the right things on the way home. I don't think it hit me until I got home that I left my first real job. It was only 2.5 years, but a lot of life happened during that time.
After the initial shock, a day later, I'm just complacent. I'm not sure what the new job will bring, but I'm not nervous about it either.
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