Hater of feet walks

I’ve tried to devise witty ways to say it, but I think the original is just the best. I quit my job. I quit. I resigned. I am unemployed. I am a worthless unemployed bum hoping to find success in the kindness of others. And I am gleeful. Filled up to my nostrils will glee.

It wasn’t always this way. An hour before I made my announcement I was in absolute nail-biting compulsive-emailing agony. For me telling an employer that I’m leaving is just about the most horrid thing in the world. Almost as horrid as feet.

The mere thought of it drained my mouth of saliva and even my saliva-producing glands which are usually so great (even slightly over-ambitious at night), forgot how to work. Add to this the kind of stomach cramps that Jane Fonda would be proud of and you’ve got me pinned at one hour until “The Deed”.

Fifteen minutes later I had also chewed my hands off, started nibbling on my elbows and sent about a hundred resignation-related emails to my friends. Just in case any of them wanted to pitch in with a “DON’T DO IT”. But they didn’t. They were wonderful, empathetic and completely supportive of my insanity. Friends are great.

Anyway, the time for The Deed came. I asked the CEO and Publisher whether I could have a minute of their time and I headed for the meeting room. The one-minute walk was enough to fill my head with illogical, panicked delusions: How will they react? What if they hate me? What if they hit me? What if they staple my head to the wall and then tickle me? What if they take their shoes off? Oh dear lord, what if they cry?

And for three agonising seconds I considered not saying anything at all, dashing away from the office and sending an “I’m sorry, but I have to quit” text from my phone or maybe calling them from Germany. Luckily I have a sane side and a courageous side buried underneath all of the crazy, so I told them that I had made the decision to leave.

You may be surprised (although probably not) that they didn’t threaten me with their appendages. Instead they genuinely expressed regret and wished me luck with the future. I was so relieved I almost considered calling the whole thing off and signing a 100-year contract. But I didn’t. So I’m currently working my final couple of weeks here and then ploughing my way forward…