Breaking up is hard to do.

Today I was transported back in time to spring semester of my freshman year of college...i sat on the floor in my room, 205 North Corbin...and alphabetized CD’s (oh who am I kidding...I was putting all of my Smashing Pumpkins bootlegs in chronological order)...vacuumed, a rarity back in the day... then I organized and reorganized my notes for my psychology class...downloaded a few songs from Napster...and then went back to reorganizing my music collection for the umpteenth time that night.

I was officially fidgety. Stomach in knots. Very aware of what I was about to do. What I needed to do. And what I hated to do all at the same time. I was about to break up with my high school sweetheart.

Hilary came into my room...looked at me and said “Pony up and just do it already.”

I knew she was right.

With a deep breath, I dialed his number, bit my tongue, and shed a tear...

...and that was that.

Today, I found myself in the same break up situation. But rather than cement walls, a bunk bed and my parent’s old oriental rug that adorned the dormroom floor, I found myself here...sitting in my cube, straightening and restraightening my desk over and over...lining up paper clips...restacking notes from meetings...pulling cards from my rolodex...filing old folders...sharpening pencils...and tossing old highlighters...prioritizing my “to do” list. Basically, procrastinating the inevitable in every sense of the word.

And once again I found myself officially fidgety. Stomach in knots. Very aware of what I was about to do. What I needed to do. And what I hated to do all at the same time. Except now, this time, I was about to break up with my boss.

A friend popped into my cube and sensed the tension. She gave me one look.

I gave a silent nod. And got up...started walking into his office...and in a sudden freak-out moment I quickly re-routed my path to the bathroom.

I locked myself in a stall and had a self-pep talk. I thought I might throw up. I may just have. You can do this, Barb. You’ll feel so much better afterward. Rip it off like a band-aid... make it quick and painless. This is your career you’re dealing with and you’ve got every right to steer it whichever direction you choose.

I repeated that last part ad nauseam.

After pulling myself together, I walked back by Lexi’s desk to make sure he wasn’t on the phone...

...a deep breath and a collective moment outside his door...I entered his office to unleash what I thought was going to be a shitstorm.

I wanted to give the “it’s not you, it’s me” speech. But that’d be a flagrant lie. And well, this wasn’t the time to sugar-coat it to that extent. I got most of what I wanted to off of my chest. I told him I was interested in pursuing opportunities on other teams within the agency. He looked at me like I had just kicked his puppy dog. It wasn’t pretty. And neither was the conversation.
But I did what I had to do.

I opened the door for potentially greener pastures. And I’ve got the go ahead to explore my curiosities on that front. I feel very lucky that I’m in a position where I actually can do this. I suppose you can only handle so much unhappiness in a situation before something has got to give. Sure. I probably should’ve addresses my concerns a while ago, but I’m not big on conflict and remained ever-hopeful that things would smooth out over the past year by tweaking my approach behind the scenes. Didn’t happen.

I eventually told my other supervisor, who was a bit more supportive and understood my need for a change. But they're still hopeful that we can work on a way to make things better and ultimately, have me stay.

It was really difficult for me to let them know my interest in other teams. I mean…these guys are the ones responsible for my professional development. They took in this sweet girl from Kansas and molded her into one badass PR machine. I felt like I was abandoning them…and that’s what made it so difficult…

We’ll see how all of this pans out. I’ll meet with HR and see where things take me. Cross your fingers and toes that everything irons out like it's supposed to.

The whole situation reminds of an old colleague of mine, who we fondly called “Kwilly,” she once told me...“People don’t quit jobs. People quit people.”

She couldn’t have been more right.

Tonight’s run provided a little bit of clarity, despite its crappiness with my body not agreeing with what I set out to do. Eight miles on the radar for a 12:27 average…

1 – 11:07
2 – 11:09
3 – 11:03
4 – 13:17
5 – 13:20
6 – 13:31
7 – 13:23
8 – 12:32

Clearly I started out too fast. I got caught up in a local 5k race…a race in where I saw fellow Chicago runner Whitney hauling some serious ass. By mile 4 my hip flexors were screaming and I was getting that weird pinching feeling in my calf. So I slowed it way down, did some stretching and incorporated a healthy amount of walking into the mix.

I felt good about it though and glad that I went out and just did it rather than let the boo hissiness of my day keep me down.

Now...in break up tradition...someone pass me a pint of Ben & Jerry's Cherry Garcia ice cream and a spoon.