Point of no return! Leaving Corporate America.

I felt my jaw clench into a skewed, unnatural position as I saw a familiar message introduction pop up on my LinkedIn profile.  

“Carl.  How are you today?  I am currently hiring…”

For most of my life, I welcomed messages from recruiters.  When I had been previously unemployed, the pop-up notification signaling a message from a recruiter was a warm and welcome sight.  Even when I was employed, receiving a recruitment message always made for a nice boost to my self-esteem.  I could tell myself that once my current job was over, I’d have no issues finding another.  I was valued.  I was marketable. I would survive in corporate America.  

But maybe that was the problem… Lately, I had started to dread corporate America. 

Only a couple months prior, I had quit my job.  And this wasn’t any job. This was THE JOB. The highest paying, highest medical benefits job I had ever had in my life.  A job I had worked towards, and was accepted into after years of lower tier contracting positions.  This was a job that made me feel confident in my response when friends and peers asked where I was working, and a job that made my family proud. At job I could tell any girl I was on a date with about so she wouldn't think I was some bum. And now— a job I no longer held.

I remember the response from my boss the day I quit.  An email that looked like it had been copied and pasted from a template she might have found online.  “Dear Carl, I support your decision to leave.  Please back up all your files to the Microsoft Teams Drive, and turn in your equipment.”  She then gave additional instructions on where to back up each project.  I never saw her again. No exit interview, so heart to heart conversation, not even an offer to be a reference for future employment.

I stared at her message.  I felt rather dejected, but not surprised.  For two years, I had been her only employee, and for two years, I had done the best I could, working well into the night, trying to meet her expectations. But to no avail. Now I was leaving, which meant I was no longer part of the team, which meant I was no longer worth her time. 

My E-Learning Multimedia Developer job was in my rear view mirror by the end of that week. I was burnt out, had taken some major damage to my confidence, and held zero enthusiasm for jumping back into another office building with a thousand gray cubicles, despite the delicious cafeteria food.  

Now, three months later, and one surgery later, I was looking at a new message from a recruiter.  

I should be elated about this… right?  Another job?  Another salary?  A PPO medical plan?  And an overall sense of status and security? A reason to stay? I should definitely take this job into consideration.

Right?  

But I didn’t.  I read through the entire message.  As usual from LinkedIn recruiters, there were many fluff words describing the position, as well as a myriad of unnecessary corporate acronyms.  But no details on the salary or benefits. Maybe this was for the best. Out of sight, out of mind. I politely declined the recruiter’s offer, saying I wasn’t available at the moment, but thank you.  

I closed the LinkedIn window on my computer, and navigated to a PDF document I had downloaded labeled ‘Allianz Travel Insurance.’  

I needed a break.  In fact, I needed a break years ago, but now I was finally going to do something about it.  

I decided that for the next 4 months I wouldn’t be working.  Instead, I would be taking an extremely long vacation.  An adventure around the world!

Last Day on the Job. Dropping off my equipment.