Today marks the 4-year anniversary of the day I quit my first real job (retail jobs don’t count as real jobs). Actually, that almost sounds like I up and left in a fit of pique and never went back. Which isn’t true at all. No, I gave my two weeks notice like a good corporate American drone. But March 19, 2008 was my last day at that company. (It was also the day my dad retired from his job of 30+ years.)
As it happens, March 19, 2008 was a Wednesday, which is admittedly a weird day to leave a job. (I left all of my other jobs on Fridays, like normal people do.) But there was a very good reason. Easter that year was March 23 and my parents and I had decided to move to Florida by Easter. And I couldn’t leave my job before March 12 if I wanted to get my 2007 bonus (and I wanted that bonus). As I remember it, the last day of work was Wednesday. The movers came and packed up the house on Thursday and then my parents and I started the drive south at 5 PM. (My dad swears we left Delaware at 5:00 on the dot.) We made it to my parents’ Florida house sometime Friday evening.
Oddly, the only thing I distinctly remember from that first weekend in Florida was the mini emotional breakdown I had at Easter Mass. I don’t remember what triggered it, but I do remember that I nearly broke down crying at the end of Mass and my parents let me go sit in the car (score!). (I swear it wasn’t an attempt to get out of Mass. If it had been, I would’ve had my freakout much earlier in the service.) Maybe I had a vision of how miserable I would be in Florida, who knows?
Today isn’t technically the anniversary of when I moved to Florida, but I will always think of it that way. In my head, leaving my first real job is synonymous with moving to Florida. And today was the day I left that job.
The anniversary of leaving my first real job is the kind of thing I tend to put in calendars (especially of the electronic variety), but for some reason I hadn’t done that before today. Nope, I remembered this anniversary just because I remember this anniversary. I even called my dad earlier to wish him a happy retirement anniversary. He also remembered what today was, although he had entered it in his Outlook calendar.
Here’s hoping that by the time March 19, 2013 rolls around I will be gainfully employed in the land of Wawa and TastyKakes once again.