Moving On

Last Monday, I gave in my two-weeks' notice. The stunned look on my boss' face made me feel bad. After letting it sink in, he seemed to snap out of it and magnanimously told me that if it was for a better opportunity, then he would be happy for me. I assured him it was. It was an offer too good to refuse, I said. He then congratulated me with a wistful smile, reminding me that it is not his way to hinder people's advancement of themselves. As the reality of the situation became more apparent in the following days, I have been subject to some ribbing and roasting about my inevitable departure.

Leaving a job that you like, with people that you enjoy working with, is sad no matter how green the next pasture is to which you are moving. I work for a family-oriented, community-focused financial firm of about 160 people. It's probably one of the most laid-back financial firms I have ever seen. Different people, even ones that I did not expect, have been dropping by my office this whole week, telling me how sad they are to see me go. It reminded me what I liked best about this company, the humility and warmth of the people. Of course, some had this expression saying "contact" as they found out which division of the company for which I would be working. I don't mind.

So in a week's time, I will be working in a 160-people division, in a company of 175,000. It boggles my mind. So far, the ones I have met during the whole hiring process have been super, top to bottom. I hope it continues to be that way as I go along. I hope and I pray!