Yesterday, in a meeting with a few co-workers, we began talking about the process for my transition from the company. My last day of work is Thursday, July 27th, which was exactly 14 days away. As we were talking about my departure, one of my co-workers, whose retired from the military, informed me of the way they calculate count downs. Apparently in the military, they would not count the current day or the day you actually leave. They consider the last day as a ‘wake up,’ technically the last day you wake up doing whatever it is you’re getting ready to walk away from. So instead of saying I have 14 days left, I would say, I have ’12 and a wake up.’
As I sat there, smiling because 12 sounds so much better than 14, I started thinking of a way to create a cool count down board or calendar, and then I thought, well maybe it isn’t 12 days. Maybe I only have 8 days a wake up! I do! I have 8 work days and a wake up!
I smiled for a while, or at least until I got to my desk alone. I walked out of work feeling a little anxious. 8 days and a wake up. I can’t lie, I cried a little. Some tears of joy. I can’t really place the other tears. I think I am still processing. As excited as I am, I am still so nervous.
I’m about to leave the only life I’ve known for the past 16 years, but I’m ready. I’ve been ready.
Ready to take on a new adventure. To live the life I’ve been waiting to live. Ready to be, who I’ve been trying to be.
As time got closer, I tried to envision myself living in the moment. Enjoying life as the new me. But I couldn’t fully embrace it. I think physically being in Indiana has reminded me of the things I didn’t do. The places I didn’t go. So I’ve just gotta do it. I have to spread my wings and move on, with no regrets, but I can’t ever look back. I don’t want to ever come back. Not to the person I am here. . .
8 days and a wake up . . .