The thought of one more day there made me want to eat a gun.  I would have, but I called a friend instead.  He talked me down from the ledge.  I wish I could say this was something just horrible, but its from a constant grinding. A grinding away of ideals—in contrast with my own.  

I was born an idealist. That is for sure. I put people on pedestals and then wonder why they disapoint me.  Aware, I am. But the conflict still exists: the leadership here is abyssmal.  Constant change, no defined leader, atmosphere of uncertainity, no trust. You know, the stuff that is a blast to work in.  

I realize many people on this Earth could and would overlook these faults and be grateful for a job. I am not one of them.  I am grateful to be employed: but not at the cost of me.  That may be hard to understand for some. Probably many for whom I work with. I didn’t want to admit it either, but there it is.  I am done here and time to move on.

How in the hell do I move on? 

I wake up today, ready for a new day.  I’ve applied for a new job or 5. I’ve slept on the couch—sick with the flu. Currently sweating like mad—guess its the flu.  The thought hits me: what do I want to do? The usual list emerges. I would love to go back to school for a year. Just escape all of this for awhile.  Write. I’ve always wanted to write, but I have lacked the discipline.  No that’s not true, I just don’t like what I write. So I assume no one else will.

So I review the recent past. What has happened that has put me back here again? Perpetually unhappy with my job?  Nothing. Nothing has happened and that’s part of the problem. Faith. I have no faith left in this organization and it threatens my security. Hope. Hope in the vision for the company and for myself here. Trust. No trust at all in the leadership.  A very wise man once told me, when you are in defiant opposition to the leadership of the company and/or the direction the company is taking. Its time to leave. Guess its time to leave.

But here’s the rub: I’ve attempted to leave before? Will I fail again? Will I succeed? Why? Determination? Or just luck? Where are all the freaking answers to these questions?

What are the odds that I will sit down and just crank out a novel? Then get it published? I don’t know..At the moment I don’t have any ideas but I am willing to try again. 

Maybe I couldn’t leave before because I needed to meet certain people or experience certain things. I don’t know.  

If I want to be honest, I could never be happy with something I didnt respect. There’s the bottom line. No that’s too simple. What is the source of unhappiness? Why I am so unhappy there, really?  

Exploring…the job from the beginning was about survival and supposed to be temporary. Then somewhere along my path I’ve lost faith in myself and stuck around here resenting it. I just couldn’t seem to move-paralyzed in a sense. Whenever I tried to leave, I failed. Why? 

I thought this last change would make me happy-it did for awhile. But now I’m further from that than before. 

I find myself in great opportunities doing things I do not enjoy or have big downsides. Like planning. I am not a natural planner—I had to learn it, but I did well and I am good at it. I can’t say that I loved it. Ever. I enjoyed the collaboration. I enjoyed the challenges and problem solving, but the political stuff and fear I hated. Still do. Made great friends. 

Interesting observation.  With the project, I enjoyed the debating, the problem solving, the resolution and architecture, but the conflict made me sick. Then all the drama. I am so ready to move on its not funny. Just pooped. And now I have become that person in the office. The one who’s on an emotional rollercoaster. You know the people you know are leaving but they have no prospects yet.  About to chew off their feet to get out of the chains. That’s me. My flesh burns when I walk in the office and I resent everyone. Its not their fault. 

How would I write the ending of this chapter in my life? What kind of happy ending would I write? I would be writing, living in the country, successful and traveling. That’s how it would end. Serene life at the beach, writing all day, visiting with friends and family. I love that idea.