Career Transition
What I Keep Not Writing
Seven stories in the document. The sentence above them still blank. I think I finally understand why.
After the Third Note
I sent the third Marcus email yesterday afternoon. Seventy-two words. I counted them after I hit send.
What Counts Now
I sat down to build the month-two target I said I needed. The metrics I kept reaching for were not mine.
Month Two Has No Shape Yet
Month one had two anchors. Month two has a blank calendar, a contact log with four entries, and a framework I forgot to build.
I Wanted This Date to Mean Something
The fear post is up. The first month is done. Thirty days in and nothing is resolved, which turns out to be its own kind of information.
Reading It Like Someone Who Wasn't There
I wrote three paragraphs yesterday for the stranger's sister. This morning I tried to read them as someone who hadn't lived the last four weeks.
The Post I Promised the Stranger's Sister
Four weeks in, two days until the end of month one, and I finally figured out who I'm writing the fear post for.
When Avoidance Looks Like Caution
I had the referral name for more than two weeks. I told myself I was being careful. Friday morning I figured out the difference.
After the Checkpoint
October 14 had been on my calendar since May. Yesterday it came and went. Today is just Thursday.
What I Left Myself
Today is October 14. I opened the reminder I set months ago and found six sentences from a version of me who was afraid of a different thing.
What I'd Tell Her Sister
A stranger asked if I'd written about the fear of the first month. I'm twenty-four days in and I still can't write it. But I'm going to try anyway.
What Not Chasing Actually Looks Like
I sent the Marcus follow-up at 8:12 this morning. Four sentences. Seven minutes. I cannot tell yet if that was the right call or the comfortable one.
What Sunday Is For Now
I used to spend Sunday making Monday manageable. Tomorrow I follow up with Marcus. The stakes are real. Nobody is tracking but me.
The Habit I Forgot to Resign From
I checked my phone twice at my son's lacrosse game this morning. Marcus is a Monday follow-up and I know that. The habit doesn't.
What a Friday Feels Like Now
I woke up and had to think about what day it was. Two seconds. But it happened, which tells me something about what I've been living inside.
The Note I Already Wrote
Four attempts at the October 14 reminder and what finally came out instead: the word blog, and then stopping to look at it.
The Reminder I Still Haven't Written
Seven days until the October 14 reminder fires, and I still don't know what to say to myself when it does.
After the Send
The Marcus email is out. Four entries in the contact log. One blank field where the follow-up date should be. Eight days to the reminder I still haven't written.
The Morning I Finally Sent It
Three days of failed drafts, and this morning I finally sent it. I had been introducing myself to the wrong version of the conversation.
The Email I Keep Starting
I know how to write a cold outreach email. The problem is I always had a company name to stand behind. Now I have to figure out how to start without that.
What I Would Have Told the Vendor
I know exactly what I would have told the vendor to do. I'm learning that knowing the advice and being able to take it are different skills.
Twelve Days
The contact log has three entries. I've opened it four times today. Nothing has changed. That was always the point.
The First Entry in the Contact Log
The call is done. I have a Google Doc with three rows and a column that says 'follow-up date.'
The Part That Traveled
The call happened. Eighteen minutes. I was heard. I still don't know what that means yet.
What Monday Is For
The call is tomorrow. The prep is done. The space between them is all I have to work with today.
What I'm Listening For
The prep brief I have used for twenty-four years requires raw material I no longer have. I found a different format. I am not sure it solves the problem.
How I Used to Prepare
A call is coming this week. I have prepared for hundreds of calls. This one is different and I keep trying to pretend it isn't.
Twelve Minutes Each
The four emails I had been sitting on for days took about twelve minutes each to write. That is not what I expected to find.
The Four I Haven't Sent
The notice is sent. The manager call happened. The attorney cleared the names in June. There is no logical reason to wait. I'm waiting.
What the Transition Logistics Don't Cover
The handoff brief covers five accounts. The exit form covers the laptop. Neither of them covers the reflex.
What You Stop Explaining Away
I found out about a meeting I wasn't in. What surprised me was how I reacted to finding out.
What I'm Actually Asking the Attorney
I've been preparing for Tuesday's attorney meeting all weekend. Eight questions written down. Still working on the ninth.
The Real Deadline
The attorney's scheduling email arrived at 8:47 this morning. The consultation is Tuesday. Now I have to figure out what I'm actually going to say.