May 21 marks a very strange and bittersweet date for me at work. That Friday, the oldest, most experienced and sassiest member of my work team is retiring. After working at the Commission for over 30 years, her split with this job is well deserved.
After she leaves, it will vault me into the position of the most experienced on our team. I'm not quite sure how I feel about this. One of the reassuring things about my job was the understanding that if I was ever unsure or unclear on an inquiry, I could turn to my team mate and get the answer I needed.
Now I'm turning into that person. I'm becoming the expert that my other team members rely on, and I find myself providing the answers that I used to ask for.
It's a strange role reversal and my instinct is to fear the change that's coming and try to ignore the inevitable.
I call this "The Ostrich" and I'm very good at it.
But there's also a part of me that is excited about being the true, indisputable leader of the group. A part of me that's confident and sees the road ahead with clear eyes.
I'm finding, as I'm growing long in the tooth, that the ambition and drive that's been sitting dormant within me is coming to the surface.
I finding myself wanting more opportunities, more education, more experience, more, more, more.
And I want it all now.
Apparently, as my ambition increases, my patience decreases.
I would draw a graph, but, alas, my math skills have not grown stronger with age.
When I look back at the person I was when I first started this position, I can truly see how far I've come. From being green and eager to taking a leadership position in three short years, I'm quite proud of myself.
Plus, my retiring team mate promised to give me her home phone number so I can call her at home and disrupt her retirement with my inane questions.
It's good to have a lifeline - especially when you're steering the ship.
Just because I'm the boss, doesn't mean I've stopped mixing my metaphors.