Wisdom from the grave

It's amazing how smart a person gets after people know they're leaving. Have you ever noticed how often people quote what others say on their death bed? Or, how well do you remember the last good bye with a friend on moving day, or a loved one saying farewell at the airport? Some words just ring in our memories like an echoing voice. That's why we have the phrase, 'famous last words'.

I gave notice at my job earlier this week since I recently got a new job. (I'm so happy.) My last day in this job is in mid Sept. One of the things that was encouraging me to look for another job is how readily my opinions and ideas were quickly pooh poohed by my co-workers. Although I've got 10 years of professional work experience beyond my undergraduate degree, and a master's degree in my field, I'm significantly younger than most of my co-workers (not just my superiors).

The group of people that didn't give a flying hoot about what I used think are now begging for and praising the same feedback that I have always given. The exact same ideas spoken by the exact same person to the exact same people are now recognized as wise. You'd think I'd changed bodies with the Dali Lama, or something: "Wait, can you repeat that? I want to write that down. ... Wow, yeah, that makes complete sense. What a good idea. Thank you." You could just call me E.F. Hutton. It actually feels quite ridiculous.

I have this eerie feeling as though I'm calling out from the grave of this old job. My colleagues are surrounding my hospital deathbed, with the beeping of the heart monitor as the only sound to interrupt, as they all sit in rapt attention as the last few utterances of wise counsel escape from my lips.

Since giving notice, my conversations with colleagues at the office have been wrapped with this morbid theme like the mummification process. I think it's my poetic way of expressing the dumbfounded shock that they are finally actually listening to what I have to say.