Yesterday was my last day at my library job, and it let me check off The Last Two Difficult Things of this process: (1) the exit interview, and (2) the departure.
I was stressed about the exit interview with the director. It felt important to tell her EVERYTHING I WANTED HER TO KNOW, and to lay it out so that she would HAVE to understand it. I kept trying to plan what I was going to say and how I was going to say it. Gradually I realized that I had said most of the things already, and that the exit interview was just a chance to reiterate and emphasize. And that it’s up to her to listen and to understand and to take appropriate action. I relaxed quite a bit after that.
And the interview went fine. It involved a series of pre-set questions, and ended with asking if there was anything else I wanted her to know. The pre-set questions reminded me of the form we have for people who want to object to a book in our collection: it asks them what they LIKED about the book before asking why they want it removed. I see what such structures are trying to accomplish—but, because I DO see it, I feel it comes across as manipulative and condescending. One of the most sudden fights I ever had with Paul was when I’d been venting about a difficult and upsetting situation, and he said pointedly, patiently, “Can you think of anything POSITIVE to say about it?” Emotionally coach your OWN ass, mister.
The nice thing (the POSITIVE thing!) about the format in this particular case was that it gave me a chance to talk about the library and my job and my coworkers with shining eyes—which I hope let the director see clearly what a difference there was when I started to talk about my supervisor and how she had treated me. I said what I’d hoped to be bold enough to say, which is that my supervisor is not a good manager, and that I didn’t think she had either the temperament or the instincts to BECOME a good manager. (I practiced those words: neither the TEMPERAMENT nor the INSTINCTS.) And I was able to end on a warm (POSITIVE!) note, by re-expressing my appreciation for the library and for (all but one of) my coworkers. (I did say “all but one of.”) And my director said nice things about me, and we both said we were sorry things had ended this way. And then it was done: one of the two difficult steps dealt with.
I do have one regret, something I should have said when she asked if there was anything else I wanted to tell her. I should have told her that when I followed her advice and asked my supervisor for more clarification about a rule and why it was important that it be done that way, my supervisor said that I wouldn’t understand, and that only people who worked 40-60 hours a week would understand the big picture. This was regarding a micromanagement of my personal work routine, one that made my work less efficient and was causing problems with the patrons (it was the rule about stopping the pick list at 9:30 a.m. no matter what). That would have been the perfect moment to tell that story to the director, since it would have shown her the gap between the way she would like things to be done (the way she thinks things ARE being done) and the way the supervisor is actually doing them. I missed that opportunity, though, and I am going to have to stop playing the alternate reality (where I DO say it) in my mind. If I’d known she was going to ask that last question, I would have been ready; I did not know, so I was not ready, and that is going to have to be okay. And: this director sided with my supervisor against me on the pick list issue, without talking to me about it, so the supervisor is now the director’s well-earned problem. The director could have had better insight into the situation if she’d wanted it, and she didn’t choose that option even when she had it for free. That’s my attempt at a Coping Thought.
I’d hoped for a very low-key departure; goodbyes can be agonizing. Also, I was worried my supervisor might do something I didn’t know how to respond to (offer a hug; say she would miss me; say something kind of mean; etc.). It was one of the reasons I was tempted not to tell anyone I was leaving: my ideal would be to leave EXACTLY AS USUAL, but then NEVER RETURN.
But also: it was already not low-key at all. Two coworkers had brought me flowering plants. Two had brought doughnuts, one had brought muffins, several had brought candy. One brought me a stuffed animal. They made me my own custom box containing a journal and socks and candy plus a tiny note in a tiny envelope from each coworker, plus there was a card everyone had signed. They made me a bag full of road-trip snacks. It took me three trips to get everything to the car. It was devastatingly touching.
I did still try to make the departure brisk. Two coworkers were leaving at the same time as me (just at the end of their shift, not forever), so I arranged ahead of time for us to go out together, so we could do one big “BYYYYYYYEEEEeeeeeee!” as we swept out, and that worked well. Then one of those two coworkers left to go to her second job, and the other coworker and I went out to lunch to rehash the whole thing: how bad our supervisor was; why I had to leave; why it took me so long; who do we think she’ll pick on next; what do we think the director might do; etc. It was a very nice lunch.
I don’t think it has fully sunk in yet that I am not going back to work on Monday. I’m interested to see how Monday will feel.

