Letting go of a beloved job is hard
I never expected that leaving my position as a parliamentarian’s constituency assistant, which I’ve loved for over eleven years, would feel more like severing a limb than embracing freedom.
I never expected that leaving my position as a parliamentarian’s constituency assistant, which I’ve loved for over eleven years, would feel more like severing a limb than embracing freedom.
The ward’s halls are paved with anxiety, painted with sighs and patched over with prayer. COVID and other nasty body snatchers hover. But she stands at the nursing station, pen in hand, checking charts. She’s young. Calm. Pretty. And pretty weary. Three more hours till she can leave. Her littles …