R & 9

Today's post is brought to you by the letter R and the number 9.

R for resignation. From my job. 

9 for the number of years I have been in my job. 9 and a half to be correct. 

And this is what the blog has been all about. This is what the Year of the Chicken actually represents. Unfortunately I couldn't say anything until now but two weeks ago R-day arrived and now I can let you all in on the secret. 

Chicken on the head! 

Does it all make sense now? A bit cryptic I know and I am sorry if I have totally confused anyone but it would be professional suicide to announce on a blog that you intend to resign from your job months in advance. 

And now we go retrospect. What you are about to read below was written last year. Right before the "Year of the Chicken" started.When I made my decision. 

So without further ado. I present to you the first real post for the "Chicken on the Head" blog. 

The Year of the Chicken  

Have you ever sat next to someone at work who always seemed to be daydreaming of something bigger, something better. Who is always talking about "chucking it all in to go..." sailing... travelling... surfing... lama farming in the Andes. The general bumming around mentality of someone who's head is clearly not at work. Crazy, yeah? Or, maybe you are that person and the tedium of a work-a-day life is just too much to bear. Well, I'm with you brother. And I am about to start my Year of the Chicken.

Year of the Chicken? What exactly is that? Sit back, relax and let me enlighten you.

A few years back I read this book about being addicted to the "cheese" of job security. The situation where no matter how bad a job gets some of us will stick at it, because the job feds our need for security, because it has "perks". The security and "perks", in my case, is a good superannuation package, a 9 day fortnight, plenty of leave each year and a healthy secure wage coming in every fortnight. This "cheese" is suppose to be enough for me/us to over look the other not so great aspects of the job. Like mice is a lab maze, we are kept being fed the "cheese" so that we don't notice the monotony of the place, that there is often no way out or up and worst of all, no goal at the end other than the small bits of "cheese" we have received along the way. Which is great if you want to be a lab mouse but not so good if you want to, say, go lama farming in the Andes.

The author of this insightful book, unfortunately I don't remember the title but it isn't "Who stole my cheese", wrote about the office that he worked in and a work colleague who dreamed of being a small farm holder. The work colleague was an accountant and the general consensus around the office was that he was completely "off his tree". One day the accountant/wannabe small farm holder stopped at a stock auction on his way to work and bought himself a chicken. When he arrived at the office, with a chicken under his arm, there were a few raised eyebrows and weary looks but the author realised that this was the beginning of the end for the accountant. The wannabe small farm holder had taken his first step towards his dream.

At this point when recounting the story I usually get asked "what did he do with the chicken all day while he was at work?" Like that is the most important thing. Apparently he put it in his locker, according to the book. Not sure how PC that is but that's the story in the book.

Chickens inside lockers aside. I'm telling you all this because I when I read this I grabbed that idea and ran with it. I have joked at work for years "if anyone sees a chicken running around here, it's mine". And about four weeks ago that chicken came flapping and squawking into my office in a way that just couldn't be ignored. My chicken had arrived and I knew it was time. Time to start my "Year of the Chicken"

What does a "Year of the Chicken" look like. Hummm. Not exactly sure. There is some planning to do. A business plan to write, business cards to order, web-sites to build, and mostly importantly clients to be found and secured. Officially I wont be starting until around May/June 2015 so there is a bit of work to be done. 

The first step for me was to make the decision. That's a big step. There is a lot of "cheese" at stake here, and all different types of "cheese". "Cheese" that is soft and gooey. "Cheese" that is hard and bitey. "Cheese" that is so bland that you are not even sure that it is "cheese". "Cheese" that really, really stinks. There is even stuff that is pretending to be "cheese" but really isn't "cheese", this type of "cheese" can be a real trap for young players. But, unfortunately there is not nearly enough of the type of "cheese" I need at my work to keep me there. 

I'm a Landscape Architect. My passion is to create spaces and places were people can interact and relax and feel good about themselves. I design movement, activity, community. When I first came to the place where I work I felt privileged because it allowed me to follow my passion in are region which is mostly populated with economically disadvantage and marginalised people. People who would never have the economic opportunity to "hire" a Landscape Architect. This rated high on my moral and ethical compass. 

But... in the last 18 months or so my job has been slowly evolving, or more correctly regressing. And like weeds slowly invading a garden bed my work as a Landscape Architect has been eroded away until I now find that my work is no more than performing bureaucratic tasks normally associate with low level administrative management in a government authority. I no longer do the traditional work of a Landscape Architect, designing, drawing, creating, instead I complete the forms, write the memos and reports, attend the meetings that while still associated with the role of a Landscape Architect mostly more associated with day to day administration than strategy or planning. Barely holding onto the "cheese" I valued most, I had my yearly performance review. I realised that I hadn't not done any real design work for almost 12 months, and the year ahead wasn't looking to promising either. My chicken had arrived.

Okay, the chicken has arrived. What next? The big decision. A few issues to tackle here, the usual issues connected to the financial "cheese". But after doing the sums and working out time-frames,  I arrived at the date. March 13 2015. My Dad's 80th birthday. The weekend my niece gets married. An auspicious date. This will be the day that I pack up what's left of "cheese", grab my chicken and leave the maze. 

That's the easy part, sticking to it, that's the hard part. Time to confess past sins. In the past, I have given myself dates like this and always chickened out (no pun intended). This time, however, I have to ensure that I have everything in place, stitched up so to speak, to make sure I don't back out on the deal. 

This time so that I don't back out I will log the date that I am due to resign by in my calendar, along with the date that will be my last day. This time I will write my letter of resignation well in advance. Before Christmas. I will make it my Christmas present to myself. And most importantly, I will plan out and diarise what I will be doing once I have set myself free. This is critical for two reasons. Number one to keep myself accountable and make sure I do it. Number two, and this is more important than number one, to make sure that I plan what I have to do after I finish. Time is a moving beast, and it moves pretty damn fast. Before I know it my "Year of the Chicken" will be over and all that I will have shown for it will be that I have had a nice year long holiday. Great for lazy days in the garden, not so good for the bank balance. So organisation and planning is the key to staying on track and having a successful year. 

So it begins. The Year of the Chicken.

Fingers crossed. Wish me luck.

oOo

The above was written as the end of October last year. 

Fast forward to today. The first step of the plan has been actioned. I resigned from my "cheese" laden job two weeks ago. I don't think I slept so soundly in months. It felt really good. 

I did everything I planned. I wrote the resignation letter before Christmas and put the date on it. Actually I moved the date closer because once I have made up my mind it had became much easier to do. 

Leaving day has also been brought forward to the 12th March. Just because I want a long weekend. No other reason. 

Once I live my job I plan on giving myself a bit of time. A couple of weeks. But then it will be action stations. Like I said time is a moving beast and it will not wait for me to get my act together. 

I thought I would be nervous but instead I am really excited. I can't wait to get started. I don't know what this year will hold but what I do know that no amount of cheese is worth staying in a job that is not right for you.