In December, I left the company that I'd worked at for five and some change years. It was both my decision and not my decision, and while it was bitterly disappointing in some ways, in many others it was an incredible relief. In the five years since I took refuge in that company from the market crash and attendant recession, the Silicon Valley has changed immensely, and the job I'd found myself doing did not satisfactorily allow me to partake in all the new and exciting things.
I went home and cried. And the next day had lunch with a friend at Facebook. And the day after, spent an hour and 45 minutes discussing office culture and communications with the director of the San Francisco office of a company that I will coyly decline to name. I've spent the last month reconnecting with people I care about and who are doing really interesting things, and I reminded me of something that you forget during any struggle where you feel like you're fighting for your job:
I'm pretty darn awesome.
To be honest, regardless of cashflow, of shipped product, of office perks and culture and growth, the reason I'd stayed as long and as loyally as I did was the people. My now-former colleagues are also pretty darn awesome. At some point in the midst of a long-ago project I remember having a moment where I said to someone else "even if we were digging ditches, I would still want to be working with these folks". And that's still true. When some of those who'd left before me found out that I'd gone, I started getting texts and emails and offers of support, of interview opportunities, of coffee or lunch or dinner or whatnot.
But I'm not sure how aggressively I want to look for a job right now.
For starters, I'm tired. I've had five years of wanting to do lots and lots of things and never having the time to get to them, and quite frankly the backlog of sleep I've missed out on is pretty long too. I've spent the last month catching up on cleaning, and mending, cooking things I've been meaning to try out, sorting through my sewing stuff, and my ephemera and just generally cleaning out the cobwebs.
But the real reason is that M is going to London for six months for work, and I'm intending to go with him. We're not 100% sure of the dates at this point, but it seems like it'll be in March. This means cleaning and packing will be helpful in case the landlord decides she'd rather have someone else in here while I'm gone and kicks me out. Or to prevent me feeling trapped in my own junk if I come home after six months to a huge mess.
It's big and scary and exciting, and I've been slowly telling people not-in-writing, because I'm afraid that it could still fall through if I don't carefully guard its half-formed shape. But I'm so excited! And that makes it hard to think about anything other than spending six months immersed in museums and visiting country houses and hanging out with reenactors and eating Eton Mess.
But we'll see. :)
