Resigning

I wasn't looking forward to resigning from my job one bit. But as the early morning autumnal sunshine streamed in to my boss’s office, the conversation was a lot less awkward that I was expecting it to be.

After all, this wasn’t about me being unhappy in my job. It wasn’t about me wanting to work for a competitor. It wasn’t about a bigger salary or a better car. This was about Karen and me. It was about wanting to change our lifestyle; it was about wanting to see the world and it was about wanting to experience new experiences. And there’s not a lot you can say to that.

Indeed, my boss was actually very understanding. After his initial reaction of disappointment, he was soon questioning me eagerly about the detail of our plans – something I was more than happy to share with him; the countries, the transport, the hopes, the fears.

As I left the room he shook my hand, wished me luck and joked how envious he was. So that was that. There would be no going back now. Thirteen weeks of notice and our plans would turn into reality.