Perspective
I swore an oath to never quit my job before the ink on the next contract is dry ever again.
What I should have done last time is just call in sick, find a new job, and then resign. It is the European way. Unfortunately, during the annus horribilis that was 2025, rational thinking was in short supply, and I did things in the wrong order.
I have different problems now.
Did I maybe accept the offer from my current employer a little too easily? It's hard to say. Yes, I had some friendly conversations, and I had little to lose. On the other hand, I didn't ask too many questions.
I am currently riding an emotional roller coaster which loops through three very distinct phases.
Customer A: today I presented a high-level proposed architecture that I worked out for the project we are working on. A very productive meeting, and the project is going well so far.
I pity customer B. What I want to tell them is this: "Look, I'm sorry that my predecessors have made such a mess of things. I don't know what they were thinking. They didn't write down anything useful, and I can't ask them because I've only ever met them for half an hour before they ran off to another job, and they didn't tell me half of what I need to know. I've seen what you've been paying us every month. I strongly advise you to not renew the contract and hire someone competent instead. You would save money and get much better service." I can't tell them that, but I'm fast running out of things I can say.
Then there is the one day per week that we are all at the office. The first time, I met my colleague whose one joke in life is to loudly play the most godawfully annoying music imaginable -- and if you are now picturing something vaguely cringey and memey like disco polo, you poor sweet summer child, I have to tell you that the dark hinterlands of 1990's European popular music hold terrors unimaginable to the average mind. Do not dive into this rabbit hole. There is no pot of gold at the end of this particular rainbow. No highly esteemed deed is commemorated here.
The thing is that I become a different person in each of these contexts.
In the meeting with customer A, I talked persuasively and authoritatively, and my proposals were welcomed and accepted. I felt like a confident, experienced professional, useful and appreciated.
With customer B, I felt the familiar waves of cognitive dissonance wash over me that cost me my sanity at my old job: employer claims they are the most amazing company ever and everything they do is just peachy perfect, customer asks why server crashes every month like clockwork, and I'm put in an impossible position in the middle.
At the office, I feel like I've shown up to a convention neatly dressed in a suit and tie, and I have accidentally opened the door to the wrong conference room. Inside, there's a riotous orgy going on; everybody is naked, loud music is playing, and alcohol is flowing freely.
Am I going to walk in and ask everyone to please be quiet, sober up and put some clothes on?
Hell no. I'm going to close the door, pretend I didn't see anything, and walk away.