Beginnings and Endings
Late in 2005, I was restless. I was working at Halliburton and looking for a way out. I was happy to be employed, but every day brought problems that were urgent and boring, and problems that were important but beyond my meagre abilities.
I was in a management position, knowing exactly how unprepared, inept, and disinterested I was.
I’d applied to a number of tech companies in Edmonton — in fact, there are quite a few that I haven’t given a thought to since my Halliburton days, but that do come up from time to time and remind me just how little I know about the lay of tech companies in the city.
A co-worker, Victor suggested that I apply at Intuit. I knew they were too good for me — I had no real programming experience and they were the Utopia of programming jobs. On the other hand, I’d applied everywhere else I could think of, so I gave it a shot and promptly forgot about it, going about my days in mind-numbing fashion.
They called me in February, asking if I was still interested in interviewing for a position. I said yes and dove into a book about interview techniques.
Kim and the kids went to Vancouver for Kim’s brother’s wedding. The dog and the cat stayed with me. The interviews went well, one with a “Talent Acquisition” person, and the next with the hiring manager, Jim, as well as a senior engineer. I made an impression because phone calls were made to my references and I was hired.
In 2008, I was angry. I was scared and I felt trapped and betrayed by the company I’d worked for. My business unit had dissolved in Edmonton and everyone was gone. I saw my departure from Intuit as the only rational path I could take. I couldn’t know if I was the next one on the block and that uncertainty made me very uneasy. Over the months after leaving Intuit, I would drive by the building and feel sad, nostalgic, and wistful. Taking the 68 bus from the transit centre, past Intuit, I would feel certain that some of my co-workers would be at the bus stop. None of them ever were.
In October, 2011, I was starting to feel apprehension. I was going to be out of work at the end of December and I had nothing lined up. I had no way to gauge the market or the likelihood of employment. In fact, the company I was going to be leaving, Haemonetics, had hired me on the heels of a six-month semi-employed period that felt like it would never end. So I pounded the pavement early.
Two jobs bubbled to the surface very quickly. there was a long-term contract with somewhat similar work to what I’d been doing at Haemonetics — plentiful but boring. The other was an opportunity at Intuit.
I decided on a six-month contract at Intuit. There was less certainty, but they really needed someone and they were really positive that I was the guy for them. I started there, flooded with good feeling. I was going back.
Six months went by in a hectic, sleepless blur. It took a couple of days to get up to full speed but once I did, I didn’t really slow down again until the end of April. Intuit offered me a two-and-a-half-month extension, along with the possibility of renewal. I accepted, but made it clear that I was looking for something long-term. I found it with POSP. I interviewed with them, they liked me, I liked them, and I gave my notice to my manager.
I felt a great deal of trepidation leading up to that moment. It’s never an easy thing to tell someone you’re leaving and I sat on it for a week because my manager was away. I kept it from co-workers because I hadn’t told my manager. That made me feel even worse. Everyone has been really cool with it, though, and as hard as it’s been to break the news, nobody’s made it harder than it had to be.
A week from today, I’ll be looking back on my first day at a new job. For now, though, I’ll mourn the one I’m leaving.