I missed whatever else Evan was saying as I stared at my computer screen, still showing Hew’s message.The words burned into my memory.
My fingers hovered over the keyboard.
I could try to smooth things over.Promise it wouldn’t happen again.Grovel...
Some of my colleagues would’ve done exactly that.
But that wasn’t me.
With a few clicks of the cursor, I was opening a draft resignation letter I’d previously saved.With just a few changed words, I pulled the pin on my career and threw the grenade.
I attached the letter to my reply with a brief apology for making Hew look bad — and for the awkward timing.I added a line about hoping to become a full-time author.
Not that my reason for leaving mattered much.
Hitting send, I settled back in my seat and took a deep breath.
Feeling the mental weight I hadn’t realised I’d been carrying fall away.
“I’ve done it.Sent the letter to Hew and copied it to HR.”
“Wow.So that’s it then?How much notice do you have to give?”Evan asked.
“Just one month.”
“WHAT?That can’t be right.Doesn’t your boss have to give six months?At your level, it must be three months!”
I couldn’t stop the smirk that crept across my face.
“Theoretically, it should be three months.Except HR avoided changing my terms.”
“Sounds like they’ve just shot themselves in the foot then.”
Or I’d just shot myself in the foot.
I’d hoped to build up a bit more of a nest egg before going part-time.Now here I was, ditching the day job completely.
Why was I still sitting here when no one else had bothered to come in?
I felt the urge to go home.To be in a safe, quiet place.Somewhere I could face the onslaught of emails and calls I knew would come, asking me to reconsider.
“Ev, I’m going to head off.I’ll see you at home later.”
“No worries.I’ll see you soon.And Rob?Don’t worry.I’ve got your back.”
I could picture him now — bleached blond hair, tattoos giving him a bad-boy edge in contrast to his boyish good looks.
I wish I had his confidence.
No matter what life threw at him, Ev always seemed to land on his feet.He’d changed jobs more times than I could count.To him, life was an adventure, not just a journey.
Maybe I should take a leaf out of his book.
And just go with it.
Just as I expected, news of my resignation spread quickly.
If I had a pound for every time someone said I was “being brave” by becoming a full-time author, then my money fears would be irrelevant.
