Oct. 3, 2011:
This is my last week at work, but I am not at work. No way do I want the goodbye sheetcake. Nor will I write the farewell email… ‘had a great ride… will miss everyone… blah blah blah.” For two weeks, my coworkers at the Philadelphia Inquirer have been quietly coming by to give me hugs and tell me how, as their editor, I helped make their stories better. This is my reward. I will slip out quietly, striking out into who knows what? My friends have been telling me for 10 years that there’s life after journalism, as each buyout has threatened the strength of our newsroom and I debated leaving. But I loved my job too much. Now, though, with a reduced workforce, it’s clear the future holds less fun than the past.
Time to go.
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