Return of the Chubby 5th Grader

Today was my last day of work at my now "old" job. It reminded me of the last day of 5th grade at the Catholic school my mom forced me to go to for one year. I hated the year there. One of the girls in my class had her mom bring her in lunch from a restaurant every day (remember my home town has recently been featured in the "Real Housewives" series). So for my last day, and in order to make an obviously miserable kid a bit happier, my mom brought me lunch from Grosso's, including Cool Ranch Doritos. Shockingly, it didn't make everything better.

Anyway, when I left school on that final day in June 1987 or 88, you would have thought that I would have been thrilled. But I wasn't. I cried and was sad. To this day, I have no idea why.

Now in January 2010, I am sitting on my couch, done with a job that I have really enjoyed for most of the time, but have struggled with for the last year or so. And I am remarkably sad even though you would think I would be nothing but happy.

As with the chubby 5th grader, sitting in an awful plaid jumper (our uniform) in the back of my mom's station wagon, I am not sure why I am sad. I think some sadness is normal, but the amount I feel is somewhat unexpected. The intervening 22+ years since 5th grade have given me the wisdom to surmise why I am sad. Here we go:

- I have worked there for my entire career. It is weird to hand in my laptop, blackberry and building pass and walk out the door. And in this age of constant communication, it is hard not having that email address because that is how I communicated with many people.
- some people didn't take the time to say goodbye, even over email in response to my farewell email. People that I thought I was friends with or would have thought to. (I stopped by but they were not in). And the person I probably was closest too has kind of ignored me for a few days and then at the party tonight didn't bother talking to me. Like many things in life, it reminds me of X in that it is another way to passively show that I really don't matter to them. But whatever. It makes me sad, but I will deal.
- the exit interview had some really tough questions and it was hard to answer them honestly without coming off as bitter.
- I am detoxing from zombie meds and I feel physically terrible. Literally like a drug addict. Plus, I am feeling less like a zombie and am thus actually feeling emotions instead of nothing. (the flip side is that I feel truly and actually excited to start my new job, I feel positive emotions as well as negative ones now).

More Jillian related posts to follow. Promise.