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I woke up this morning with this thought: By the time you say you are leaving you have, in fact, already left.

A simple truth. But how to live with it?

Today I see the wisdom in giving two weeks notice to an employer. Right about now, the three months I gave is feeling, well, like wa-a-a-a-y the hell too much time. Not for them, perhaps. But for me, without a doubt.

So now what?

Look at this as an opportunity to reflect on what I've learned the past nine years. Take the odd moment here and there to think about what I'd like to do for the next nine years. But, most importantly, try not to wish this time away, try to stay in the moment, try to breathe and not get anxious when I know in my heart that my heart and I have already left the premises...

There is, I think, a difference between being patient and waiting. Waiting implies a certain amount of finger-drumming, toe-tapping and other assorted angst-inducing by-products of impatience. (Like using too many hyphenated words in one sentence.)

B-u-t I, a-h-e-m, d-i-g-r-e-s-s ._._.

I'm going to muster up my inner resources and practice being patient until June 15th. That day will come in its own sweet time and nothing I do or think will hurry it here. Nothing.

But next time, if there is a next time, 2 weeks notice and I'm outta there! (Come to think of it, though, the last time I gave two weeks notice was when I had been on a job - at the female bastion known as the Chi Omega Sorority Headquarters in "omigod!" Memphis TN - a mere ten days. And four days after giving notice I announced, in no uncertain terms, that I had places to go and things to do and "enough is enough!")

Some lessons have, obviously, been lost on me. Probably because I had already left the building...

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