You are doing a good job; you know that. You know that you are more productive when you do one task at a time, and you used this knowledge to accomplish so much in the last eight months.
But then, you decide to leave. Even when someone wants you to stay, you decide to leave.
You long for a place where there is interaction and open communication; a place where compromises and agreements are made, just like when you were working with brilliant individuals in your past work place. You try, you know you have been trying so hard, to make things right. You come up with the right process, thanks to the exceptional people you have been consulting with. You set a goal, and then work backwards.
But then, even when you feel that you are going on the right track, one will make you feel you aren’t.
You try to make agreements, but one will aggressively push his/her own plans without making a compromise. Your voice is shaky; your tears are trying to form while you defend the right process.
You have a frail heart, so you stay silent.
One has suggested that you take a walk when things do not go as you plan. Then you realize, you walk more often than before.
You have been patient and kind, but you have reached your limit.
You decide to study to be able to do greater things. You have to know so much more—including how to defend your decisions and how to push for open communication instead of just being silent.
And then you laugh. Your mother was wrong; you wouldn’t be a good lawyer.
You weep as you write a blog, for you know you are just as invested to this job as when you were teaching, but you know you have to leave for a while or else it will break you.