I’m not rushing back to work. This time away uncovers my previous job’s ennui. After six years of work, I left more scarred than I realized.
I had two tough bosses, one mean and one incompetent. Both were young so neither permitted flexibility or growth: no working from home, no time off without pay, nothing irregular that might besmirch them. Their bottom line was the semblance of results, not actual progress or personal growth. Although fine friends, they were young and inexperienced too.
I’m to blame as much as my bosses for capitulating to the corporate structure and the tenure of their rule. I kept my head down, grumbled, and assumed all companies worked this way. I put up with the insanity each day for the prerequisite eight hours of face time while I NWFW, not worked from work. Over the years that entrenched ennui drained enthusiasm.
Eventually, I did learn the Dilbert-style machinations prevalent in many workplaces: bluster is rewarded and only suckers do the actual work. I departed in April more mature and more aware, but more cynical. AJ commented, “So you now know that corporate America is busted. What are you going to do about it for your next job?”
I don’t know. Wait to take another job?