The Thursday Ramble: When the Job is Killing You

I guess the ultimate answer to what to do when the job is killing you, is retire.  Call it quits. Say I don't want to do this shit anymore and I am not going to.  Then book a long trip, as often as you can.  I was just on Facebook and someone had posted their planned itinerary for a week in Iceland, looking for input on what they should add.  I didn't comment, but if I had, my comment would have been, "what is missing is a day off, a vacation."  We are moving east across the Atlantic, with a nice wind to our back, averaging about 25 miles per hour, about 5 miles per hour faster than scheduled.  I am finding lots of joyous nothing to fill my days. 

A couple of months ago, as I was drafting posts to go up while I was on this years grand adventure, Doc Spo posted about change when you hate your job. Twice in my nearly 50 years of working, I reached a breaking point on a job that was killing my soul.  I went for weeks, or months, dreaming of escaping.  I found myself saying "I don't want to do this anymore." And until retirement age, I needed to work.  I needed to support myself, pay for a home, food, transportation. I needed to work to have health insurance.  

The first breaking point was in late 1991.  I was working for a homebuilder in central Florida.  It had been a great, if at times all consuming, job.  Lots of 10 hour days, always working on weekends, and several times a year, going 2-3 weeks without a day off.  It also paid really well.  In some ways I am still benefiting from 2-3 years of high earnings while I was with that builder.  There was a change of management. The division manager I worked for was fired, for cause.  A regional vice president was promoted. New managers brought in.  My immediate boss was under intense pressure, that he passed onto nearly everyone who worked with him.  I was moved to a project in an area I didn't understand and didn't like, new product was being built, in designs that didn't work for the market.  The new bosses boss, was having an affair with one of my coworkers.  Things were just weird.  And my personal life was a mess.  I was in a failed relationship that had two of us living parallel lives and hating one another most of the time. 

I was miserable.  I was taking college classes a couple of nights a week.  Scheduling for the next semester was coming up.  I called my boss and said "I need to take some serious time off, like the fall semester." We called it a sabbatical. I don't know how I found the strength to do that. It helped what I had a pipeline of work that I would be paid for.  

I booked a full class load, spent time thinking, ended the failed relationship.  When it was time for me to return to work, I found that my boss had been fired, for meddling in the affair between my co-worker and his boss.  She replaced my boss, and told me "there was not a place for me."  I moved on, found another job. Things bounced around for two or three years, and when Sweet Bear was offered a teaching job in Kentucky and we made the major move, leaving the builder world to pursue something entirely new. 

The second breaking point came about 10 years into practicing law.  I was working for a small non-profit public interest group.  The director's personal life was a mess. She became unresponsive. Rather than wait for approval I went to sending her memos that read, "unless you object to this proposal, I will consider it approved and move forward." And I did. I had a very successful grant season, bringing in funding to support myself and another person.  I asked the boss to allow me to hire a halftime assistant.  I was willing to work 60 hours a week, I needed help. And she responded, with a no.  Why I will never know.  I was at a breaking point of working insane hours, and being told despite the fact that I had raised outside money to hire help, I couldn't.  An email arrived describing a job opening in Washington DC.  I had a fitful and sleepless night.  Got up at 5:00 AM, updated my resume and applied before going to the office the next day.  A few weeks later I had an interview in DC. About three weeks went by and I had given up hope. And things were dire in the office.  I called in sick, I couldn't face going in. Mid morning the phone rang.  My soon to be boss asked, "if we make you an offer, will you accept." I said yes.  He said, wait for a call. Later that afternoon I went into the office to let them know I would be leaving in four weeks.  Unfortunately, the boss who refused to hire an assistant for me, had left the week before.  I tendered my resignation to a beloved coworker on her first day as director, repeating several times, this is not about you.  

The move to DC was a major disruption.  It started a decade of us having two jobs, in two states, two homes, and splitting time between the two.  Sweet bear was able to spend about 20 weeks a year in DC. I was able to visit Lexington two or three times a year for a few days. Usually driving at least one of those. 

That bold move, put us where we are today. And we are happy with where we are.