Mixed Feelings about Moving On

I always thought that when I retired, I would go out in a blaze of glory amid profuse thanks from everyone around me. It looks like that just might not be the case. My escalating “job wars” are pointing me to the door with a handful of people probably ready to say “Good riddance.”

Before I slink away with my tail between my legs, I decided to make one last effort to have a reasonable logical discussion with someone in authority – my boss’s boss. It strikes me that this rather like appealing to your grandmother when your parents disagree with you. I actually advised my boss that I was going to do this, so she would at least know that I was going around her.

This whole weekend I have been drafting a mental e-mail message to the big boss. This seems to happen when I lie down to go to sleep or when I wake up in the middle of the night. Here’s the gist of it:

“I am seriously considering retiring because several important processing decisions which go against my better judgment have been made. They affect efficiency, cost, time, and perhaps even data quality.

I have devoted the last 13 years of my working life to assuring the excellence of the (survey name) processing system. I can't bear to see that excellence threatened. Furthermore I can't bear to feel unhappy and frustrated in my job.

I would like a chance to discuss this with you, with or without (my boss) present. Please let me know your availability.”

(Interestingly enough, there is at least one data user who reads this Blog and can attest to the high quality of the data I produce. She has been most supportive of my efforts to do things correctly.)

Somehow just writing this down made me feel better. I wonder if the big boss will make time for me in her busy schedule. I wonder how she will react. She comes from the same background that I do. In fact my husband hired her straight out of college a long time ago. So she is just a few years younger than I am. She is smart and well-respected within the agency and within the Federal government.

After chewing on this for a while, then I go on to thinking about just how I plan to leave, to say goodbye to a place I’ve called “work” for the past 35 years.

I used to think I would retire in the summer. If that were the case, I had envisioned a huge pot-luck outdoor picnic with everyone’s favorite recipe and Frisbees flying. I just wanted a chance to informally talk to people and reminisce.

But with this latest round of arguments, I want to closely control who comes to any function and I probably don’t want a group of more than 10 people at a time. So I’m thinking a series of brown-bag lunches – invitation only. There are certain people that will never be invited to one of these affairs, probably by their choice and definitely by mine.

Despite the fact that I may not leave among a sea of hugs, I am getting excited when I think this may actually happen. Sometimes we need a swift kick in the ass to set out heads and feet in motion. I think I’m finally movin’ on!