It’s only taken me eighteen months, half a dozen or so whingey blog posts, at least ten rejected applications, six months of questionable sanity and the combined efforts of prayer chains across three states, but last Friday I finally walked out of the credit union for ever.

The period of limbo between when you give your two weeks’ notice and when you actually walk out the door is always a strange one. People ask all sorts of inane questions like “Are you going to miss us?” or “Are you looking forward to starting your new job?” or (possibly the dumbest) “You know you’ve only got three days left here?”

The last day in particular was particularly bizarre. Obviously I spent most of it packing things away and getting ready to vacate my office. Of course, having maintained a clean sheet on discrepancies for a year since taking up the ops job, it would be that on my last day the safe count was $2000 short. Fortunately the money showed up about three hundred kilometres away in a community outside Katherine, so it was fine, but that was a pretty crazy way to spend my last afternoon at the company.

This week I’m settling into my new job with the NT Government. It’s already about six times less stressful than my old job, and that’s with the foot and a half deep pile of resources I need to read just to get my head around everything. But there again it’s nice to finally be in a job where knowing lots of stuff is actually valued. But that’s another post for another time.

Make of that what you will.



Garry with 2 Rs

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