Harper's Rules (3 page)

Have you bought other books about changing jobs? When someone leaves your company, do you interrogate them to find out where they are going and why? Do you peruse job boards like Monster or Careerbuilder “just for fun?” How often? Do you get calls on
your voice mail from headhunters? Do you return them? Do you find yourself unfocused at work? Have you reworked your résumé even though you're not actively looking?

BOTTOM LINE:
if you're acting like you're leaving your job, you're leaving your job. It's just a matter of timing and opportunity. Sometimes we do the right things before we've figured out why they're right.

Q2:
Can you pass the “if you were unemployed” test?

If you were unemployed and you had the chance to interview for the job you now have, would you? Or would you be more interested in seeing what else was out there?

BOTTOM LINE:
If you are staying at your job just because you are already in it, you should leave. Inert objects stay inert, and so will your career. If fear of unemployment is the only reason you stay, you should leave. We all like easy, but it's not the same as fulfilling.

Q3:
Was it ever what you really wanted?

If you made a compromise with yourself when you took your job, your chances of being satisfied by it are slight, regardless of how successful you become at it. Did you take it because you needed quick income? Did you get trapped by convenience? Or did you just make a bad judgment? Maybe your boss left or the company got bought, and the dream is no longer present but you are?

BOTTOM LINE:
If none of the original reasons why you took the job are still valid, or you settled for less than you were meant to do, your dream will haunt you until you leave.

Q4:
Can we write your eulogy right now?

If you stayed where you are for the rest of your career, are you okay with that? Can we write your eulogy? “She took a job in 2008 at age thirty-four and stayed there until she died at her desk in the fall of 2035?” Picture your tombstone with the two dates and the dash in between. Is that okay with you?

BOTTOM LINE:
If you know your story is not yet written and at some point you will seek bigger things, you should leave now if an opportunity arises. (Make all big decisions in your life by considering your “eulogy
Cliff's Notes
”: If the decision would merit mention in your eulogy, do it. If the decision is one you'd rather people not hear at your funeral, don't do it.)

Q5:
Can you pass the Money Aside Test?

If you didn't have your bills and obligations and you weren't the primary income or the single parent, would you still do your job? Is the intrinsic value of the work or the spirit of your co-workers enough to sustain you if you didn't need an income?

BOTTOM LINE:
Money is how adults keep score. It counts, but it doesn't keep us happy. If you wouldn't stay at your job if you could put money aside, then you shouldn't stay now.

Q6:
How often do you laugh during the day?

Are you a living, breathing, hostile working environment? Do you make annoying, sighing sounds all day? Have your co-workers stopped asking “are you okay?” because they know the answer?

BOTTOM LINE:
If you've stopped laughing, quit immediately. Longevity and success is tied to laughter. The average five-year-old laughs 500 times a day; the average thirty-five-year-old laughs fifteen times a day. We lose 485 laughs in thirty years—why? Your career is far too serious a matter to take seriously.

Q7:
Do you believe what they tell you at work?

Has your boss or senior management violated your trust? Is there a pattern of being told one thing only to find you were part of the company “spin?” Did a disclosure you made in confidence show up in a press release?

BOTTOM LINE:
Everyone lies. It's essential to a civilized society. But there are white lies and there are lies. If you have lost your basic trust in your boss or organization, then you've met an obstacle you cannot overcome. In life and work, love means no reservations.

Q8:
Do you love the job but feel uncomfortable in the culture?

Is there a mismatch in the attitudes and values of the people who surround you? Is the way you dress or how you spend your free time making you feel like you don't fit? Do you ever think that if you could change the culture, the job would be great?

BOTTOM LINE:
Cultures don't change. You assimilate or you leave. Relationships that work don't require change on a massive scale.

Q9:
Are you staying because they “need you right now” and you “can't do that to your colleagues?” Are you disillusioned but held hostage by guilt?

BOTTOM LINE:
Get over yourself. The company will not only survive but flourish with someone new who goes at the job happy and hard. If you're going through the motions, then get in motion—out the door.

Q10:
Has your body already told you to leave, but you're hard of hearing?

Are you listless? Eating comfort carbs or not eating enough? Are you having trouble sleeping or sleeping too much? Have you lost interest—in everything? Are you self-medicating with drugs, alcohol, or sex? Does your lower back or neck ache every day? Is sarcasm your first line of defense? Are you aware how unattractive all these are? I don't like you already!

BOTTOM LINE:
Pain is your body's way of demanding change, and you need to listen. The second you make the decision to leave, you will feel a lifting sensation, and you will start to come back to yourself.

Don't sit there and nod your head and move on! Answer these questions honestly, and you'll get an overarching feeling one way or another. Either your relationship is broken and you should make a change, or you should decide it's better than you thought and you will stay. Do the work and make the call.

I knew I should go to bed, but Harper had stirred things up and now I was wired. Tired, wired, and a little drunk—and I'm going to try and determine whether I should leave my job? Oh hell, why not? I couldn't get Harper's “diagnostics” out of my head, and I found myself drifting from my job back to my courting days with Donald, to that very sweet and false time every couple enjoys.

Was it ever what you wanted?

No, it wasn't. He wanted to take care of me. He seemed like such a good man, and after all the unreliable bad boys who had no aspirations beyond a good time, it seemed like I should be grateful. He wasn't threatened that I made more money than he did. He wasn't funny, but he thought I was funny, which seemed far more important. He was gentle with Starbucks and he not only cooked, he didn't hold it against me that I was helpless without a microwave. Most of all, he was my rock. Nothing could rattle him.

But I never believed it was forever. I would often imagine being with someone else who was spontaneous, who had a mind so fast I could barely keep up, who made me tingle when I touched him. I didn't want Donald to leave, but I didn't want him, either. When I turned thirty and he started to talk about kids, I would change the subject. I would set goals we had to reach before we got pregnant: pay our mortgage down, get the regional sales manager's job. I urged him to get his Master's degree. I was willing to make him seem inadequate so I could avoid the reality that he was not the love of my life.

And I never told him; only Hannah knew. When we were in the limousine going to the church on the day of my wedding, she popped champagne, poured us each a glass, and recited our secret toast: “Here's to Donald; he'll be a great first husband.”

Can you pass the “if you were unemployed” test?

This one was easy. I was one of SAP's top producers. I was happy—apparently unlike Sasha, the wife of Kevin, our inside sales director; she began sleeping with Donald a few weeks after I introduced them at our company summer bash. I even told Donald to let her play on his side of the volleyball net. I still remember the look on her face when they high fived after a nasty spike. I think the affair started that instant, no matter when it was consummated. SAP was the big time, the Show. I'm in my prime but back in the minors.

So, you bet if I were unemployed I'd interview again.

And, I suddenly realized, if I hadn't married Donald and I had a chance to date him exclusively or date others as well, I would date others. I would not settle again.

Now I see what Harper is getting at. When you're deciding whether to stay at a job or in a relationship, it's the same qualifying procedure. I put on a pot of coffee.

If you're acting like you're leaving, you're leaving.

When Harper first recruited me, the first thing he said to me was, “I identified myself as a headhunter. Why did you return the call?”

“Come on, Harper, haven't you ever been tempted?”

“Personally or professionally?”

“Either.” You want to flirt, bring it.

“Personally I'm tempted this very second,” he said. “Professionally, never. I do what I'm meant to do. There is no variance between whom I show you and who I am. I make more money than I am able to spend, try though I may, so I am absolutely safe from someone like me.”

“And at what point do you think you could get over yourself a little?”

“That's to be determined. Casey, you should have the same goal: to be unrecruitable. But you're not. There's something missing. You sense I could help, and you're right. I can.”

“And yet, personally, you said you're tempted right now. What are we to make of that?”

“Only that you're fabulous.”

“Apparently not fabulous enough.”

“I love my wife. We have a deal, and I honor the terms. Mutual trust.”

If you've lost basic trust . . . you've met an obstacle you cannot overcome.

It was suddenly so clear to me. I wanted to be in relationships where I could trust completely and safely: to live, as Harper said,
without reservation
. But in order to trust you must be trustworthy, and so far in my thirty-four years—well, thirty-five in four months and thirteen days—I couldn't say I had been. I'd been waiting for something better to come along without letting go of whatever stability I had at the time. It was wrong, and I have paid my dues. So why did I feel so loose, so light?

I stood up and paced the room. I wanted to go for a run; I suddenly wanted to kiss someone. I was flooded with hope, as if a syringe full of it were injected straight into my heart. I, having proudly refused alimony, was alone in the world save for a churlish cat. Despite these facts—or because of them—I felt completely in control and sorry for all human beings who were not me.

If you're acting like you're leaving a relationship, you're leaving the relationship.

I get it, Harper, and I now know what I need to do: I am going to quit my job without having a new one! Hurry up Monday, you're holding a good woman back!

CHAPTER TWO

The following Monday I was heading into the office, eager for battle. How does your personal music know what is going on in your life? I remember sitting in a terminal in St. Louis listening to my iPod as I went through my mail. Just as I opened the papers Donald's lawyer had prepared, Bonnie Raitt's “I Can't Make You Love Me if You Don't” came on, and I cried so hard I had to hide in a stall in the ladies' room. Now, Bachman-Turner Overdrive's “Takin' Care of Business” was playing on the classic rock station while I was on my way to quit my job. Just to keep from jinxing it, I turned off the sound system.

The moment I sat at my desk, I took a deep breath and called my boss. I told him I needed to see him as soon as possible about a serious and sensitive matter that could not wait.

I decided to let Harper know. I opted for a text message. “I am giving my notice in less than an hour. I appreciated your email last night, sorry, your ‘book.' Try not to gloat. FYI.”

Three minutes later my direct line buzzed: Harper's number.

“Did you do it yet?”

“No, in a few minutes. Why?”

“Because you're not going to. That's why.”

“Why not?”

“Because you'd be breaking one of the cardinal rules:

Harper's Rule: You don't quit a job until you have another job.

“It's like a commandment. How could you not know that?”

“Why didn't you put that in the chapter?”

“Because it's in the next chapter!”

“And why didn't you send it to me?”

“Because I haven't written it yet.”

“Oh, for the love of God, Harper. He's going to be here any minute. I demanded the meeting; I told him it was serious and sensitive.”

“Okay, no problem. There are many things you might need to talk to your boss about that are serious and sensitive. Tell him you need time off for elective surgery. Tell him you've decided to adopt a child and you may need to go to Guatemala . . .”

“Harper, your casual lying really scares me.”

“But I'm making up lies for
you
to tell. And there's nothing casual about it.”

“You told me I was marketable. Why would another company hold it against me that I'm unemployed?”

“Because that's how it works. Hold on. I'm driving in, and I'm going to pull over before I get killed. I can't shift and talk with my hands at the same time . . .

“Listen to me. You can't give notice. You'll lose all your leverage. It's not fair, but that's how it is. Companies believe good people are never out of a job. So if you're unemployed, then how good could you be? And the longer you're out, the worse it gets.”