I was invited to a weekend training course which sounded interesting – mind stuff. It was up my alley. They were long days but worthwhile. On the Sunday evening, the trainer sent us home to apply what we’d learned. Specifically, he suggested that we set ourselves a huge goal, one which was so grandiose that, when we achieved it, we would know that it was only as a result of what we had learned that weekend.
On the ferry home that night, the over-achiever in me didn’t want to stop at one goal. If I was doing the work anyway, I wanted three things: I wanted out of the job that I’d grown to dislike, I wanted $50,000 cash and I wanted to meet my husband. Sure.
The next day, on my Monday lunch break, I went downstairs and sat in the café alone. I had goals to work on. I came up with a plan which appealed to two out of the three goals I’d set. I called my Mum and announced that a redundancy was the obvious solution.
Meet the women kicking major life goals after the age of 30, because it’s totally possible.
Back up to my desk at 2pm, I logged onto my computer and saw a meeting request from the MD. He’d noticed I was looking uninspired by my job and offered me a new role within the company. My lunchtime thoughts, dangling in front of my eyes, were all I could see. Everything I heard from him at that moment was tainted with the opportunity to be made redundant. With my version of reality the only way forward, I kindly declined the new role and we both tip-toed around the “R” topic without either saying the word. The meeting was rescheduled to Friday allowing both of us time to “think about it”.