I took a job interview right before you called me in. I had a feeling this would be the day I’d be let go but when the time came it felt too soon. Things have been slow for months. I haven’t been satisfied at work in over a year. I don’t know what I should say to you; after today I probably will never see you or anyone from the office ever again. For some reason, that makes me happy.
I’ve spent the last three years in this building. I’ve seen everyone here, everyday. We’re moved floors. Many have left. Some have died. Children have been born. I’ve grown up here. And with all of this I can say that I’m happy that I will never come back after today. And I know why that is: I took a job interview right before you called me in.
I should’ve left six months ago, when Zoe left. Zoe leaving was the last tether I really had to a friend here and, though, I haven’t seen her since, it’s all different. No one engages with me here outside of working. My jokes go over everyone’s head, or often go unheard. No one cares about issues surrounding Black people or other minorities in the world unless I bring it up. Hell, I’ve even turned into the resident politics person in the Creative Department. I’m twenty-five year old. Why does it seem as though I care more about what’s going on in the government then men twice my age? It’s all a bit nuts.
I’ve always felt like an outlier, constantly being reminded of how I didn’t really belong. I never give an introductory presentation. Thinking back on it, I took a lot of time that first week to prepare something I was very proud to show, only to later on I told that because I was a freelancer doing a presentation for the staff was unnecessary. Never mind that the position I took was to transform into a full-time position by that summer; that never happened. As the years went by I watched everyone from passersby to the part-time IT man to goddamn interns share fun facts about who they were and their life story with the entire office. For me, that day never came. Instead I was ushered in with an email and few handshakes with higher-ups and other staff. There are still people who have no idea who I am. There are still people who I have no idea who they are. I find that unfair.
There were those who treated me like family, who wanted the best for me, and sought out opportunities for me to grow. Whether it was because I was young and hungry, funny and kind, or the only black girl in the room someone always looked out for me. Then, one by one, those people left. Some went to pursue their own goals. Some were let go without warning. And I miss those people; I often wonder how they are doing. And I want to talk to them. I don’t feel the same way about you.
It’s weird to say, “I never want to see you again, but I hope you do well.” Maybe that’s why I never wrote that farewell email. A part of me wanted to brag and say “Hey! Look at me! I work for this big company now! I don’t need you guys. Kiss my ass.” But I didn’t get that job. I got through every round. I aced them: four solid home-runs. But they went with someone with more experience and I can understand that. I know how the game goes. Instead, I took a long, overdue vacation. As a freelancer I have never experienced a paid vacation, or a paid day-off for national holidays. I can’t tell you what even sick leave feels like. It taught me how to save, and so I took the money I had stored for a short vacation and booked a trip as far away from mainstream society and technology as I could. Where I landed was Middle of Nowhere, Arizona, USA. I didn’t have wifi. I saw my first live tumbleweed! I stayed there, and I thought, “I am so glad that no one is texting me about last minute changes.” There were no emails, or calls, none of Elissa’s bullshit. I didn’t have to focus on anything but here and now, I and was warm and I saw how real God really is. I could have never experienced that sudden joy of true peace of mind still being where I was.
Knowing that I may never see or speak to anyone back there again gave me back some peace of mind. Working for a PR group is hard; it demands that you give up so much of yourself. The time before work is not yours. The time after work is not yours. Weekend mornings are for checking emails. Always have your phone on you. Always respond quickly. I felt guilty not working, and it took a long time for that feeling to go away. You can be loyal, you can work you ass off, and the end result can still be to be sat in a room and told that you’re out before February. Wanna know the worst part? Before I could even break the news to anyone, an email was sent out commenting on my departure. In every way it felt as though someone took the opportunity for me to leave on my own terms away from me.
I received around four sentences summarizing that I was leaving, how it was sad, how long I’d worked here, and concluding with well wishes. In the same email, I found that someone I’d worked with on occasion was also leaving. He received a two and a half paragraph send-off full of funny anecdotes and heartfelt moments. That made me feel lower than low. It’s why I wanted to shove my new venture in everyone’s face. I wanted to write an email to share my journey and where I’d be going; to say that I am important, that I don’t need to be here, and—when you all are down on your luck and swapped during the summer and fall like every year before—you’ll be reaching out to me to see if I can help you.
Being away made me realized that life will still be life. My life wasn’t boring, or stagnant, or ridiculously difficult because I worked where I worked. I worked where I worked and life was still all of those things. I helped saved a life less than a week after being let go. A man drive off the side of the road, hit a tree, and flipped his car right in front of me. My mother and I pulled off to the side of road, ran through the snow and helped dig him out. I called the police and helped save him. Now, had I still been back at work, that man may have still ended up okay; there were other people who came and helped. But I believe that we are all put in certain places and positions for a reason. If I was at work, surfing film and anime Youtube for eight hours like I had been the last three weeks, I would be nowhere in a position to have helped that man.
I’m still unsure as to whether or not things would have been better or worse if I hadn’t been there. I will never know that and I think I don’t I will ever need to know it, just as I don’t need to know what life would be like had I’d not been let go. I said to myself last April that I would not be here another year. I knew and God knew better. He didn’t allow me to make until April; I made out around nine or ten months. It was time. It’s time for me to move on and finally do something else. I’ve gotten other interviews since then at places that want me to explore things I wasn’t allowed to at the company. We were spread too thin to do more than what we were assigned. I might do video for Christ’s sake! I’ve miss being in other applications outside of traditional design. I might get to experiment again. Granted, this could’ve been done at home but we all know that the last thing most creatives want to do in our free time is more of what feels like work. I hated that being creative, my only outlet for stress, was stressing me out.
This job made me question if I had chosen the right career path. I would often imagine a few years from now, when I’m off and married, the day I’d quit and become a stay-at-home mom leaving the field behind for good. For months it seemed as though the one thing I have ever wanted to do in life—the one thing I’ve always been good at, the one thing I’ve always been known and celebrated for— caused so much stress, and sadness. So I want to try new things. I want to be better. I want to continue learning. I want to be more creative. And, in order to do so, I’ve got to leave the past in the past and move ahead. I cannot go back to move ahead.
I never want to see any of you every again. Do well.
SYDSUGOI SPEAKS 