I considered having a little goodbye gathering at my home before leaving town, but now I think, “Why bother?” My time here never really gelled; it feels more like a “passing through.”
Part of my reluctance to throw a party is that I’m also coming to terms with the fact that someone–maybe more than one person– stabbed me in the back when it came to finding a job at my old org here. I’m also realizing that the people who said they would help me find a job at their companies did so halfheartedly, if at all.
Without getting into specifics, I think there were several possible motivations: the desire to get their own friend or relative in a position; the fear of competition; the feeling that it would be uncomfortable to work with a former supervisor; the feeling of dislike for me for one reason or another. These people are my former co-workers, supervisors, or employees, and I had, in the past, hired them or helped them out as a reference or as a source of guidance. It’s been a tough lesson to learn that they wouldn’t do the same for me. When it came down to it, they opted instead to protect their own hides.
One or two did try to help, but when their efforts failed, they lapsed into silence, which hurt. Only one or two friendships here have remained untainted from this debacle.
I’ve met a lot of lovely new acquaintances, but I didn’t have the time to get to know them enough to invite them to a goodbye party.
In the end, I saved myself. I scored a top position elsewhere– still in the process of confirmation– based on my work history and excellent references from my former job.
So, sayonara to this city…it’s been real.
F*ck ’em. Just go. No party. (And congratulations to you on the new job.)