I stayed on
after leaving the job,
which, in hindsight,
was my first mistake.
There I was,
taking minutes,
being useful,
being mature,
when someone mentioned
how wonderfully
my successor was doing.
Good for him.
Truly.
Delighted.
Perhaps, however,
we could save
the comparative performance review
until I am no longer
sitting at the table.
For a while
I wondered
whether the comment
was malicious
or merely
spectacularly insensitive.
Then I got angry.
Then philosophical.
Then, naturally,
I googled
existentialism.
Apparently
the crisis begins
when we keep giving meaning
to something
that no longer
has meaning for us.
Well.
That seemed
uncomfortably relevant.
Perhaps the universe
was not asking me
to discover
the meaning of life.
Perhaps it was simply
suggesting
I stop taking minutes.
I’ve given this a lot of thought over the last few days, and talked to some different folks about it. It’s time to move on. I’m looking forward to making a clean break in the near future.
I decided to work on my Hospice to-do list and emailed Greg, the board chair, on some company matters that needed attention. I also mentioned that my time as secretary was approaching its end, that I was ready to move on whenever it suited. Greg responded very quickly, in a very nice way, complimenting me on the work I’d done and that he was sorry I would not stay longer.