So I quit my job this week. Yup. That's right.

This week some readers thought Annoyed Army Wife was on the verge of leaving her job, throwing in the towel, walking away...however you want to put it. But she didn't.


I did.


Last week I officially dropped the knowledge bomb that I, Mrs. Wookie, of somewhat-sound mind and pale body, Employee Extraordinaire, let my boss know that I'd be riding off into the sunset 2 weeks from then. The sunset of another job. Not a military move.


I've never given notice for another job before. And I was petrified. Petrified I'd be judged. Petrified I'd be condenmed. Petrified if you're making the right decision...


But let's not pretend this is my first job out of college. I've had the pleasure of temping and working in a variety of jobs. And I've had the honor of leaving jobs for many reasons.


* January 2009: I was getting the royal shove out the door thanks to a shitty economy.
* July 2010: I was curtsying my way across country because of Mr. Wookie's orders.
* October 2011: I'm bidding adieu on my own terms.


And what terms are those? Simple. I want more green. It's only human nature to want to be successful. Success to me is continual professional growth and cashing in for some coin. And for that, I have a list of ideals to be met. First moving out here, the local economy was 3rd-degree burned. We're talking 11+% unemployed. It took me 3+ months to find a job that I loved (until then it was menial temping with shitty hours, shlumpy managers, and gossip Queens for coworkers just to bring home thin bacon). There was a reason why I wasn't clicking my heels in happiness when we moved here. California was a bitch.


Then come Christmas break, I get the call I wanted. I was hired at a local marketing and design firm. Shazam hot shit. It's like Mad Men, minus the liquor...and the baby daddy drama...and the barefoot'd boss. I was the quintessential redhead, and (go figure) a military man on my arm, walking around like I owned the place (har har...it's funny, because my old coworkers know about this blog...and *hopefully* still love this blog...and me). Hi guys. So sorry to ditch the wagon.


But lately I found myself wanting more. More of everything.


It was back in October, the day before my birthday to be exact, and I just felt mope-ish. I just wasn't professionally happy. And with Mrs. Wookie as a quasi-feminist, my overall happiness is very important. California life just wasn't stacking up to the great life I had in Virginia. And I loved Virginia life (minus the routine work stress from planning events). I'm always hyper-sensitive to the internal pulse of my happiness. So with a glass of wine in my system, another in my hand, I shyly told Mr. Wookie, "I think I want to look for a new job."


I think he could sense my turmoil. "Sure babe, whatever you want."


To be honest, I was kinda scared. What if I failed? What if a new job just wasn't in the cards? But then the reality hit...what if something comes along? What if you interview, maintain your personality, and hope you're the front runner?? What if you get a call the very next day asking when you're available to start?


I thought it would take awhile to find jobs, get the interviews, get the second interview, and play the waiting game of the job search. That's why I started so soon - I didn't expect to leave after 10 months, but I did. And I can't feel bad about it. I can't. We're only stationed in California for another 2 years or so. I don't have the time to waste in building my resume. I need what I want, and I need it now.


Letting the cat out of the bag turned my stomach inside out. I never like delving information that plagues people. I don't like to leave jobs where the people are awesome. But it had to be done. I had accepted another job's offer in 2 weeks, and I needed to make the segue. And so with my last day, came hugs, "I can't believe you're leaving," and a 4-page training manual that's at least well-written thanks to my English degree. To me, it's not "goodbye." It's "When are we meeting up for Happy Hour?"


So now I'm embarking on a new chapter of my life - getting back to where I was at in Virginia. I'm gaining the experience of a non-PCS job change and it's weird. There's no awkward explaining of why you have 3 jobs from 3 different states. It's just me...with a new learning curve...a new set of employees that I must bedazzle...and a new 18-minute commute. Here's to taking care of myself...