I'm sure that's not enough. They need to know what I know. I've talked to three people about this since yesterday, and everyone says the same thing. "Write it down and walk away."
At first I was miffed because I thought they'd be doing our clients a disservice by not providing the level of service I have given. But as I thought more about it, I realized it's a matter of pride. I have given three years of my life to this project, and I wish my colleagues wanted to hear what's important. Like if they don't want to hear it now, it's never been important, and neither have I. So, as usual, it's about me. I know what to do when that happens, so I'll do what's been suggested: write it down and walk away.
I'm taking a day of sick leave today, as I won't be paid for it if I leave it unused. This morning Art and I walked to our neighborhood cafe for breakfast, listening to the birds on the otherwise quiet neighborhood streets. I commented that some people take vacations to come to places like this just to experience what we have around us every day at this time of year. After breakfast I sat in my new Adirondack chair on the deck in the morning sun. It's wonderful to think it will be an optional activity for me every day after June 25.
We've planted our spring garden, and our back easement has been cleared of blackberries and buttercups and morning glory and replanted with native species. We have ten pavers and I want to use them to make a curved path to the easement so I can take a chair down there and commune with my neighbors' chickens.
It's very quiet during the day in our neighborhood. I used to avoid quiet. Now I love it. Good thing, too, since I'll be hearing the quiet more often.