I quit working for the hierarchical nonprofit corporation in 2004. I sold my house in a middle class neighborhood and bought a little tiny house with a huge yard on a blue-collar street full of potholes that looks like it should be out in the country somewhere. I wanted to be an urban farmer because vegetable gardening and chickens make me happy. I was going to have a new life.
I got rid of all my office clothes. I got rid of day planners and briefcases. I tossed all the "motivational" books like "Who Moved My Cheese?" I even divested myself of all the textbooks I studied while pursuing my BS in Management (the story of that degree is one I'll tell another time).
One time there was a guy fixing my washing machine, and he saw the world globe I had in the basement, and he commented that he wanted to get one for his kids. Naturally, since it had a little plaque affixed to it congratulating me on my 15 years of service, I was more than happy to let him take away that globe. I hope that he and his kids enjoyed it.
I had kept a huge cache of mementos from all my various work assignments, classes, seminars, and projects. One day I went through it all so I could recycle it. Some of it was rather poignant- there was a time that I worked in HR at that telecommunications company, and I was asked to give my analysis to upper management of what would help morale during all the massive downsizing, and I actually told them what I thought. None of my suggestions were implemented. I guess they went in the garbage, too.
For several years after that, I would get symptoms of anxiety when I saw objects that reminded me of offices: office-type desks, office chairs, calendars, planners, filing cabinets, etc. For some reason computers were exempt- maybe I had enough recreational associations with computers to make them seem benign or even friendly. I am just now getting to the point where that stuff doesn't bother me as much. I could probably go to a Staples or Office Depot store now. I'm pretty sure I could.
