This is vent art. It has to do with my work situation.

I'm leaving my current job for what promises to be a substantially better one - much better pay, doing actual software development, not perpetually on call, and to top it off it's 4 miles from my house, down from 40. I applied, I interviewed, I got an offer. I gave my current employer a chance to beat the offer. They didn't really try, so I gave my notice. I even gave a third week for a little extra time to train my replacements and disposition all my odd responsibilities.

Here we are one week from my end date, and my manager pulls me in and tells me how screwed the company is if I leave. I ask him exactly how screwed. Give me a number, how bad an impact my leaving will have. He does not. He reiterates how un-prepared my replacements are, and asks me what it would take for me to stay. I float a really ambitious number. He balks. I float a much more reasonable number: the offer from the new company, plus a consideration for the long commute and the long-term impact on my physical and mental health. He hems and haws. He asks me to sleep on it and consider. He has not given me an actual number.

Look, guy. I respect you and the company. But I sewed myself this parachute, it's solid, and I'm ready to jump. I know things are going to be hard without me. Believe me, I know. But you will survive without me. And this plane ride doesn't look any more attractive now than when I started putting this plan together.

Let me tell you, the comparison is apt, at least in my mind. Starting this process, deciding I was going to take the new job and leave, telling my boss, was as scary as climbing aboard the plane on that first real student skydive. And now, as we approach the exit, I'm being asked if I really want to do this. I could stay on the plane, and ride it back down, and stick to the status quo of my life. I'd be riding with the shame and stigma of being a coward, of not doing what I set out to do. The open sky is terrifying, but also oh so inviting. I trust my parachute and I trust my plan. If I fail, I'll be able to say I tried. I need to do this, for myself.

Software Patch is my character, and everything I don't like about myself, in the form of a pony.