Usually when I quit a job, I have a feeling of remorse, even if deep in my heart I know I have done the right thing.
Something great about this place: every day something (at least one thing) happens to remind me not to feel that way. There is no doubt in my mind or my heart that I’ve done the right thing. Isn’t that nice of work? To piss me off just enough each and every day to ensure I know beyond a doubt that I should leave this place??
That’s an attempt to be positive whilst my soul is slowly sucked away. I’m suprised at this late stage in the game that the devil would even be able to find anything left in there to siphon out. And yet with every task I undertake and complete that goes (at best) against my good common sense or (at worst) against my values (and hey! who knew that I even had any?) I can feel a little more of my soul slide away.
Side note: I’m still looking for a new job. I’m not pushing too hard yet… I’m still in the mindset that there will be something out there that I really want to do. After this week though, I’m going to have to go back to compromising to ensure I can pay my rent and not have to eat dog food for the month of August.