It happened six weeks ago. I stepped out of chaos, away from condescension, bullying, and a four-in-one job. Driven by desperation to get away from blatant unprofessionalism and the need to return to an occupational passion, I eagerly crossed over into a new galaxy. Uncertainty squished between my toes, and the past fell off my feet in smelly brown clumps.
Armed with bus routes and skyway maps, I took on this new world with a smile. Easily I carved out a routine and I’m loving the energy of being in the heart of downtown. I ride the bus, so I don’t fight traffic. In the morning I drink a cup of tea and check out the morning news on my Kindle. At the end of my day, I sit back and enjoy the ride while listening to my favorite music. I arrive home happy, which has created a transition of sorts for my husband.
I have to admit, some transitions have been harder to achieve no matter how willing I am to learn new tricks. Everyone on my small team is younger than me, including my boss. I don’t have a problem with that, but some days they seem bothered by it. And the rest of my team make me look like I have a black belt in Toastmasters. One advantage that comes with gray hair is the wisdom to be quiet and let things happen as they may. To my boss and coworkers, I appear calm and collected. They have no idea that they work at a snail’s pace and I’m fighting boredom all day long.
Don’t misunderstand me—I’m not complaining that I’m bored. I’m absolutely loving the fact that I’m not overwhelmed and I can leave work behind at the end of the day. My body is thrilled that I have time to walk on my lunch hour. I know it’s only a matter of time before they’ll figure out how to tap into all of my skills and my days will be filled with work. For now, I just want to bask in the peace and liberty. It’s been a long time coming.