Letting Go

Yesterday was my last day of work at a place I had worked at for over eight years. I don't know what the average tenure is at a job, but I think eight years is a long time. I've made some great connections, some great friends...friends in the sense that we like each other, value what we each bring to the workplace, trust one another to be fair and recognize that we are different but basically want the same thing.

Before I left I had 3 and a half days to give my replacement a crash course in her new duties. Trust me when I say, this is not near long enough. There are so many aspects to the job; so many ways to do things in the event this happens or that happens or if nothing happens. You are so dependant on the other side -send out the forms and the reciever needs to complete them correctly and completely and although we are dealing with highly educated people, what does come back isn't always correct or complete. So on to Plan B. In this job you can be up to Plan H before you can say, "okay that's that...time to move on."

I think maybe I'm overly responsible. Is there such a thing? Maybe it's part of my OCD. A disability perhaps. (Can I get Federal aid?) I have a hard time letting go. I talked to my replacement a few times today and I was happy she accepted by offer to call me. She is overwhelmed and I don't blame her. So much to know; so much I know that took me eight years to understand. I won't object to go in tomorrow afternoon...for the definate last time. But that's up to management. I made the offer; whatever they decide is the best way. My brother says I'm trying to empty out the Pacific Ocean with a bucket. I see his point but I want to feel like I've left this job in the best possible state. I don't fool myself into believing I could leave it caught up. It's one that is never done.