Zen and the Art of a Good Exit Strategy

I had a job once that seemed absolutely perfect...until I walked in the door.

I'm sure I'm not the only one to have this happen; in fact, I'm betting each and every one of you has had a Day One that turned into an 8-hour "Oh, shit!" moment.

It didn't seem like a big deal to have no computer, until several weeks later there still wasn't one. It wasn't all that bad to have to continually ask for software until I was told that I needed to sign up for a credit card. "Oh, is this a company card?" I ask, figuring they have some sort of expense-account for their executives. "No, this is an arrangement we've made with American Express to allow you to sign up for your own card." In other words, get an Amex in your name and we get a kickback. You'll still need to pay for all of your own stuff...and we'll pay you back. Using the same process that's holding up your computer. Well, to be fair, it wasn't quite the same process: anything I needed to be "paid back for" would go on a Travel Reimbursement Request Form.

I was determined to make this work. And I was resourceful: as it happened, I had my own powerful laptop, loaded with the software I'd need to work. I started using it pretty early on, but didn't tell anyone it was capable enough for me to do my job--otherwise, I imagined our staff wouldn't exactly be motivated to get me a machine.

I did everything I could at the time, but the truth is, I just wasn't up to the Machiavellian politics yet. I really didn't know how to handle the situation, and I handled it badly. A point in my favor though, was my clear understanding of the situation: I knew my problems began and ended with my direct superior. Once I realized that all points flowed through them, I realized that there was no way this situation could be salvaged, and I started planning my exit strategy.

It wasn't a graceful one, but I understood very quickly that the same system that allowed people to be cruel and petty in the name of "professionalism", also shielded me from any direct confrontation. Always being cooperative, helpful, and friendly meant that anyone who lost their cool and blew up at me would look like an ass to everyone else. Ignoring humiliation tactics (I was moved to a receptionist's desk because "I needed watching") meant the people trying to feel like they'd gotten to me were denied the pleasure. And best of all, pulling the plug meant that the people who were documenting my downfall had wasted their time--they simply had nothing to work with.

I was plenty upset, with an extra helping of frustrated, for quite a while after that: I viewed it as a failure and kept replaying events in my head to see if I could have stopped the avalanche. I got over it when I realized that I couldn't: this was nothing personal. The position I was hired into was created by a client who wanted control over their relationship with their vendor. The vendor got to pick, interview, and hire me, and the client signed my paychecks. Whoever occupied that hot-seat was meant to fail: failure meant the client would have to admit defeat and the vendor could take over the product because clearly they were the IT partner of choice.

When you serve two masters, be aware that you will be used, in one direction or another. It is inevitable that you will become the lever to jack up one side or another of the relationship. And when you're in an unwinnable situation, don't waste your time: bail. There will be plenty of other opportunities out there, and the less you have to put on a resume about the disaster, the better.