• I was hoping to grow in my career, so I quit my job when I landed a better position.
• But that new job fired me, and I was left to search for something new.
• Now I'm working in a new field and struggling to make ends meet.

Late last year, after working at a county government job for 13 years, I accepted a better position with another city.

The decision to leave had been simple; the old job had become stagnant, with few opportunities for professional growth. I had spent almost a year looking for something new, and I practically bulldozed the exit door when the offer finally came in.

Six months later, however, my new employer decided not to continue our working relationship. Their decision blindsided me, and I've spent the last year searching for a new career while questioning my decision to ever leave in the first place.

I was eager to grow in my career

Before I quit my first job, I focused on expanding my skill set so that I would be more attractive to employers in my field.

Even before I began searching for a new job, I had spent years attending leadership classes, taking on extra projects, mentoring new employees, and completing courses.

I was doing everything I could think of to excel in my chosen field of local government. But when I finally had the chance to grow in a role that was a better opportunity, the outcome was failure and expulsion.

I'm now struggling with what's next

Since I couldn't land another job within county government after being let go, I've had to look for jobs in other fields. Changing careers after my termination has not been easy. I live in Florida, where insurance sales and hospitality appear to be the two industries hiring the most these days.

After my termination, I experienced months of resentment, depression, anxiety, and an overwhelming sense of inferiority.

Even when I found a part time job that paid the bills, all the negative feelings came with me. I felt as shattered and useless as a broken mirror. I had gone out and done my best, and my best hadn't been good enough.

As I've started to explore new career options, I began to wonder if I was experiencing a midlife crisis. I used to believe a midlife crisis was just the sense that you hadn't accomplished everything you thought you should have by the time you hit your 40s, to which the appropriate response was a time of renewed and hectic efforts to accomplish something flashy or to acquire great wealth and material to show your neighbors that you were doing just fine.

I was prepared to meet that crisis, but not for professional failure and crushing disappointment in my mid-40s. So, the only conclusion I could come to was that this was my fault for daring to try something different.

I'm still trying to move forward

Even though I'm still feeling down, I've started reaching out to friends and contacts. I got more involved in volunteering within the community.

I'm now working part-time in a new field. I'm paying the bills on my small income and dipping into my retirement funds when needed.

I'm not sure I regret leaving my first gig, but it's unfortunate how everything turned out, especially now I'm being forced to start over.

But I'm trying to reframe all of this as a positive thing.

Winston Churchill said that success was going from failure to failure without a loss of enthusiasm. He also famously failed at multiple careers before becoming prime minister. I wonder if, at his lowest periods of life, Churchill ever had to drive by both of his old offices five times a week, and whether he ever felt regret that things hadn't turned out how he'd wanted.

I think he probably did, but then he put his hat back on and got back to the job of living. It seems like a good idea when nothing else makes sense.

• GM's CEO previously said she hadn't given a lot of thought to the snub of Elon Musk at a 2021 White House EV event.
• Mary Barra later said she privately told then-President Joe Biden that Tesla deserved "a lot of that credit" that GM was getting.
• The snubbing contributed to a massive rift between Biden and Musk, who later campaigned for Trump.

Sometimes it's what a President doesn't say that speaks the loudest.

In particular, the absence of Elon Musk and his Tesla cars at the May 2021 White House EV summit turned out to be a consequential snubbing.

When asked at the time what she thought about the episode, GM CEO Mary Barra said she hadn't given a lot of thought to the snub, even as her company was heaped with praise for leading the EV revolution.

Speaking Wednesday at the New York Times Dealbook Summit, she told interviewer Andrew Ross Sorkin that she had a private conversation with then-President Joe Biden to set the record straight.

"He was crediting me and I said, 'Actually, I think a lot of that credit goes to Elon and Tesla,'" Barra said. "You know me, Andrew. I don't want to take credit for things."

The Tesla snubbing episode contributed to a massive rift between Biden, who credited labor unions like the United Auto Workers for his recent electoral victory, and Musk, who later campaigned for Trump and served as a key advisor to the White House earlier this year.

Musk made no secret of his anger at GM getting credit at Tesla's expense.

"Let's not forget the White House giving Tesla the cold shoulder, excluding us from the EV summit and crediting GM with 'leading the electric car revolution' in the same quarter that they delivered 26 electric cars (not a typo) and Tesla delivered 300 thousand," he wrote in a December 2021 post on X.

Even Biden's Vice President and later Democratic presidential nominee Kamala Harris later said it was a "mistake" not to extend an invitation to the billionaire businessman.

"If you are convening the nation's manufacturers of electric vehicles and the biggest player in the field is not there, it simply doesn't make sense," she wrote in her book about the 2024 campaign. "Musk never forgave it."

• Airbus has had a turbulent week.
• It issued a software recall for an issue found after a JetBlue flight suddenly pitched down.
• Then it confirmed a quality issue with metal panels affecting some planes already in service.

It's been a bumpy few days for Airbus and its best-selling airliner.

The planemaker issued a software recall for some 6,000 A320 family jets on Friday, before confirming on Monday that it had identified a quality issue with panels on some planes.

Markets were spooked when Reuters first reported the quality issue: Airbus shares dipped as much as 11%, their biggest decline since April.

It pared some losses after the company issued a statement. Investors also appeared somewhat reassured when shares rose 4% on Wednesday, even as Airbus cut its 2025 delivery target.

Even with that rise, Airbus' share price remains down by around 8% over the past month.

However, hundreds of A320s need to be inspected, including some that have already been delivered to airlines.

This episode began on October 30, when a JetBlue A320 suddenly pitched downward during a flight from Cancún to Newark. At least 15 people were injured, and the plane diverted to Tampa, Florida.

Europe's aviation safety agency then issued an emergency airworthiness directive on November 28.

It said Airbus found the JetBlue incident was due to a malfunctioning computer system called the ELAC, which controls the plane's pitch and roll.

Airbus said that "intense solar radiation may corrupt data critical to the functioning of flight controls." A preliminary report into the incident is yet to be published.

Thousands of planes required software fixes over the Thanksgiving holiday weekend. Although many airlines were able to roll this out overnight with minimal disruption. Fewer than 100 A320s were still grounded by Monday.

Another issue rears its head

Following a Reuters report, Airbus confirmed a quality issue with metal panels on some A320 aircraft, the firm's best-selling plane and the main competitor to the Boeing 737.

An Airbus spokesperson told Business Insider that a supplier's production process resulted in panels being either too thick or too thin.

Citing a leaked presentation, Reuters and Bloomberg reported that up to 628 planes were affected, with over 100 already delivered to airlines.

Airbus declined to comment on the precise figures, but confirmed that planes potentially affected include both those in production and those in service.

The spokesperson said up to five panels per aircraft could be affected, located behind the cockpit and on both sides of the two forward doors. They also said it was not a safety issue.

"As it always does when faced with quality issues in its supply chain, Airbus is taking a conservative approach and is inspecting all aircraft potentially impacted — knowing that only a portion of them will need further action to be taken," they added.

Airbus was previously targeting 820 commercial aircraft deliveries this year, but has now reduced that to 790.

This month typically sees a big push in production as manufacturers try to reach their annual targets.

Deliveries are a key metric for financial analysts, and the target reduction reassured some investors. Airbus also maintained its financial guidance for the year.

It's due to report November's delivery figures on Friday.

The European planemaker's share price is still up nearly 24% this year. However, the past few days serve as a reminder of how things can suddenly change in aviation.

Airbus' A320 overtook the Boeing 737 as the most popular commercial airliner this year, following safety concerns at the American manufacturer.

But Boeing has been turning around, with the latest evidence coming on Tuesday. Its share price jumped 8% after its chief financial officers told a UBS conference that deliveries were expected to increase next year, and it is up nearly 30% since December 2024.

Have something to share? Contact this reporter via email at psyme@businessinsider.com or Signal at syme.99

• OpenAI has been raided for some of its talent in recent years by rivals like Meta.
• OpenAI's chief research officer Mark Chen said Meta went after "half" of his direct reports.
• Chen said his colleagues declined, but Meta has successfully recruited some OpenAI talent.

It's been said that the way to one's heart is through their stomach. It sounds like Meta CEO Mark Zuckerberg wanted to see if the AI talent war, or at least one skirmish, could be won the same way.

Mark Chen, chief research officer at OpenAI, recently said that Zuckerberg personally delivered homemade soup to an OpenAI employee as part of a campaign to recruit the unnamed worker to Meta.

"It's been kind of interesting and fun to see it escalate over time. You know, some interesting stories here are Zuck actually went and hand-delivered soup to people that he was trying to recruit from us," Chen told Ashlee Vance on the author's "Core Memory" podcast.

Chen said Zuckerberg's move was "shocking to me at the time" but since then, he said he's returned the favor.

"I've also delivered soup to people we've been recruiting from Meta," Chen said, laughing.

The poaching efforts focused on OpenAI's researchers and engineers underscores the company's position in the AI race, Chen said.

"We're always under attack," Chen told Vance. "This is how I know we're in the lead, right? Any company starts, where do they try to recruit from? It's OpenAI. They want the expertise, they want our vision, our philosophy of the world. And we've made so many star researchers, right? I think OpenAI, more than anywhere else, has been a place that makes names in AI today."

Arguably, no other rival tech company has been as aggressive in the so-called AI talent wars against OpenAI as Zuckerberg's Meta.

In June, OpenAI CEO Sam Altman said that Meta tried to lure some of his engineers with $100 million signing bonuses. The CEO said at the time that none of his top talent was poached, but ChatGPT co-creator Shengjia Zhao later joined Meta's Superintelligence Lab.

Chen said that Meta tried to recruit "half" of Chen's direct reports unsuccessfully, but that OpenAI has been "fairly good" at retaining top talent. A Meta spokesperson declined to comment.

Top AI researchers have become a hot commodity in the AI race, as it's generally believed that there is a relatively small number of researchers and engineers capable of achieving breakthroughs or building new LLMs from the ground up.

"It's like looking for LeBron James," Databricks' vice president of AI, Naveen Rao, told The Verge's Command Line newsletter last year. "There are just not very many humans who are capable of that."

• I quit my job as a business school professor, and it took years of courage and planning.
• Even though people close to me advised me against quitting, I am excited to pursue meaningful work.
• Change can be scary, but I'm excited to reinvent myself.

For years, I had wanted to resign from my job as a business school professor at a small private university. Yet I didn't have the courage. My salary was decent, my hours were flexible, and I had friendly coworkers.

From the outside, it made no sense for me to leave my job. I was unhappy, but most people seem dissatisfied with their work.

I burned out after layoffs

With recent news stories about quiet quitting, job-hugging, and significant organizational layoffs, coupled with increased daily living expenses, I knew I should be grateful for employment. As someone who teaches Organizational Learning, Performance, and Change, I knew it was not advisable to leave a job without filling a gap in my résumé by securing another position.

Yet I was unhappy and unfulfilled in my role. When a large round of layoffs occurred over a year ago, many of my peers and friends left the organization, leaving me with an unreasonable workload for one person. In addition, my family had unexpected health issues, and I needed to be more at home.

I got burned out. My work was out of alignment, and my personal values did not align with those of the organization.

I dreamed of flying to another universe on the magical, luck-bringing dragon-like creature from the 1980s movie The NeverEnding Story, or purchasing a ticket to Europe or a beach destination and going on an extended vacation.

I didn't want a life of regrets

Life is short, and many of us are living on autopilot. We dream of retirement, but for most of us, that is many years away. I did not want to look back on my life and have regrets.

So, I quit. When I sent off my resignation letter, I felt a weight lift from my shoulders, and it felt so good.

My husband and I figured out our new budget and made some lifestyle adjustments to allow me to re-energize, spend quality time with my family, and figure out my next professional steps.

I have seen many stories of people who quit their jobs and travel the world. While this sounds dreamy, being a mom of three active kids, having a husband with a non-remote job, and older parents I want to support, the Eat, Pray, Love lifestyle was not in the cards for me.

I've been spending more time with my kids

Since I quit, I have been leaning into work and experiences I enjoy. I am writing my next book, have been teaching as an adjunct, earned a new executive coaching certification, and have done some corporate speaking and consulting. I am relaunching my business and am having fun.

My kids and I have also been doing some budget-friendly traveling. I have a 4th grader, and we have been using the Every Kid Outdoors program, sponsored by the National Parks, which gives 4th graders and their families free entry to national parks.

We visited family in California, drove to Yellowstone National Park, and did some amazing hikes. We also took a road trip to Yellowstone National Park, where we saw Old Faithful and learned about the geothermal activity.

I helped my son publish his first children's book, "Tommy the Tap-Dancing T-Rex," which then inspired my older son to finish his book, too.

I work from our kitchen table

While I am not yet earning the same amount of money I earned in my salaried job, I am following the energy of what lights me up.

My new office is at the kitchen table. While my workspace may not be glamorous, I appreciate the flexibility to pick up my kids from school and have my dog by my side.

Change can be scary, but sometimes it's the push we need for growth.

I still struggle with career and identity, juggling both professional and personal identities and supporting my family doing work I enjoy, and being in the role of a parent, daughter, and spouse.

I hope quitting was the right move and am trusting that the right opportunities will reveal themselves as long as I keep showing up and putting in consistent action.

We get this one life, so it's up to us to make the most of it. I am redefining my definition of success to include a life well lived, both professionally and personally.

• Le Labo, a luxury fragrance brand founded in New York, is known for its attention-getting scents.
• I tried six of the brand's most popular perfumes and ranked them from worst to best.
• Santal 33 is overrated, in my opinion, while Lavande 31 deserves more hype.

It doesn't matter if you're a celebrity, a successful businessman, or an everyday fragrance fanatic. It seems like everyone loves Le Labo.

The New York City brand was founded by friends Fabrice Penot and Edouard Roschi in 2006 and grew so popular that it was purchased by Estée Lauder Companies in 2014.

It's known for creating memorable, luxurious scents that smell unlike anything else. Bottles retail between $110 and $1,125.

I first tried the brand at the end of 2024, testing Santal 33 against a Target dupe. Though I wasn't a fan of that fragrance, I was intrigued. I'd never smelled anything like it before.

So, I bought a few more samples (.05 fluid-ounce bottles for $7 each) of Le Labo's most popular scents and wore a different one each day over the course of two weeks.

I took notes on what I liked and disliked, asked friends and family for their thoughts, and watched the clock to see which scents lasted on my skin all day and which evaporated into thin air.

Here's how I'd rank them from worst to best.

Santal 33 doesn't deserve the hype it gets — sorry.

Santal 33 might be Le Labo's most famous fragrance, but it was also my least favorite of the scents I tried.

It had a strong, earthy scent with a heavy spice that, unfortunately, smelled like pickle juice to me. Many Le Labo fans and critics have also made this comparison.

After four short hours on the skin, the fragrance quickly went from overpowering to almost nonexistent, making it tough to justify the expensive price.

For those reasons, I'm not sure I'll ever understand the appeal of Santal 33's cult following.

Another 13 was nearly perfect, but not quite.

Whenever Santal 33 is mentioned, someone is bound to argue that Another 13 is better.

The fragrance was created in collaboration with An0ther Magazine and is now one of the brand's core scents. Le Labo describes it as a hypnotizing and "addictive dirty potion."

I'm not entirely sure what that means, but I'd say it feels accurate. Every time I sniffed Another 13, I wanted more. It faded into a blend that smelled like jasmine, citrus, vanilla, and musk — which I loved.

So, I wish I could say that the fragrance made my top three.

Unfortunately, when first sprayed, the fragrance smelled strongly of alcohol. Sometimes, it took nearly an hour to fade into the latter scent that I preferred. Other fragrance fans said they couldn't smell anything else, no matter how much time passed.

It's also not the strongest fragrance I've tried from Le Labo's roster. After two hours or so, I almost forgot I was wearing it.

Rose 31 had a classic scent but ultimately didn't stand out.

With a name like Rose 31, I figured this perfume would be straightforward.

It started with strong whiffs of grass and spice, initially distracting from the rose. Once the main note took over, however, I smelled of florals and powder, which reminded me of a classic French perfume.

I can absolutely see why people might enjoy this perfume, and I did, too.

Ultimately, though, it was a little too simple for me. If I'm buying Le Labo, I want something that stands out.

Thé Noir 29 was captivating and masculine, yet anyone could wear it.

Thé Noir 29 is the Le Labo fragrance that surprised me the most.

I expected a musky cologne but got a masculine-leaning scent that smelled like black licorice. There was also a subtle trace of tobacco as it settled and a consistent note of cedarwood.

One of my favorite elements was that the scent lasted all day without being too strong.

My only gripe — a small one — was that it only felt appropriate to wear in the evening. I couldn't see myself wearing this during the day.

Everyone should have Lavande 31 in their fragrance rotation.

After being underwhelmed by Rose 31, I worried I might feel the same about Lavande 31.

However, Le Labo says on its website that this fragrance "knocks all preconceived notions of lavender on its head" — and I completely agree.

The fragrance smelled refreshing and sophisticated, with a mix of lavender, moss, musk, and even a citrus zest. I could easily see this becoming my signature scent, especially in the spring and summer.

What I really loved, though, was the product's concept. Sometimes, you just want a perfume full of your favorite classic notes but with an interesting twist.

Lavande 31 fit that bill and exceeded expectations.

Thé Matcha 26 is probably the best and most underrated of Le Labo's popular scents.

I was most excited to try Thé Matcha 26 for two reasons. First, I enjoy the scent of the drink this fragrance is named after.

Second, Le Labo's description of the perfume caught my attention. It's said to be "introverted and deep by nature" and is meant to be smelled only by "those individuals lucky enough to be very close to the wearer."

Not only was that an accurate description, but the perfume's notes were also phenomenal, in my opinion. It's scented with fig, vetiver, and orange, which creates a soft, alluring, and calm fragrance.

If I were only going to buy one Le Labo product, it would be a bottle of Thé Matcha 26, without question.

Air Force SERE specialists — that's Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape — are the military's survival experts trained to endure the harshest conditions on Earth and teach others to do the same. They prepare airmen, pilots, and special operators to survive alone behind enemy lines, resist captivity, and return home safely.

Senior Airman Aeryk Denniston unpacks every piece of gear he carries into the wilderness when training military members for long-term survival and evasion in hostile environments.

• My parents are boomers, and they were different from my friends' parents.
• They encouraged me to feel my feelings, and most of my friends wanted to spend time at my house.
• I'm parenting after their example.

Walking through the grocery store, I heard it, the dreaded phrase: "OK, boomer." The woman behind me was talking loudly on her phone, relaying some sort of lousy experience. My stomach tensed as I passed by her with my shopping cart.

It was hard to hear her intense aggravation because, technically, my parents are boomers. However, they've never lived up to the stereotype. While my friends' parents were avoiding emotions or burying them deep down, my parents were supporting me in feeling all of mine.

My parents weren't like my friends' parents

When I was growing up, I assumed all families functioned the same way — you know, where the parents ask their kids how they feel and then take the time to listen and empathize. As far back as first grade, I can remember sitting on our couch, talking to my mom while I watched the crease between her eyebrows deepen.

"But how are you feeling now?" she asked, reaching for my hand.

I was crying so hard I gave myself the hiccups. The friend drama at school was real, and my mom listened to every word, riding out my emotions with me — never rushing me through so she could continue her evening, or telling me to get over it. She whispered she understood, and asked questions — more for me to grasp the situation than for her. Instances like these built an emotional confidence where I felt safe being myself and not shamed for it.

Most of my friends preferred to spend time at my house

This unconditional support wasn't only reserved for me, but for my friends, too. "Why don't we meet at your house?" my high school BFF always asked. In fact, most of my friends preferred hanging out at my house.

My besties confided in me that it was "easier for them to be themselves" with my parents, but I didn't understand why until I spent time with their families. There was an underlying tension I couldn't quite place, and twinges of guilt would sink into my stomach when I watched my friends hide parts of themselves from their parents. My home was decidedly different.

My friend group would sit casually at our kitchen table discussing school, relationships, or their opinions on a favorite movie. My mom and dad were there for it all. There were no dismissive tones, nor did my parents ever bring out the boomer classic: "Stop being so sensitive." Perhaps it was their focus on connection rather than control, but we felt comfortable embracing all aspects of ourselves.

These memories, and the cozy feelings they bring up, play as I pass the woman on her phone. It's not the first time I've heard people refer to my parents' generation negatively, and, sure, everyone's experience is different. Even my social media feed is full of the sentiment that boomers lack compassion and can often make for judgmental grandparents. Now that I'm a parent, I can't help but be super grateful I was supported in a way that supported me.

I'm now parenting after the example set for me

"But how are you feeling now?" My words echo my mom's as my 12-year-old son and I talk.

I sit with him while he tells me about a teacher who's stressing him out, and I wait for him to finish his thoughts and feel all his feels. My parents' emotional vulnerability directly informs my parenting — and I'm OK with it.

The good news is their support didn't end once I grew up or when they became grandparents. They're just as encouraging with my son as they were (and are) with me. My parents were gentle parenting before it even had a name, and I love passing this on to my son.

• I got my kids a landline, hoping it would spark independence.
• During the first snow day of the school year, the phone rang nonstop all morning.
• By the afternoon, they had invited friends and neighbors to play in our yard, without my involvement.

While my kids are still young and in elementary school, my husband and I have been talking about how we can foster more independence in all three.

We both long for the type of childhood we had, without cellphones, iPads, and social media.

Earlier this year, we decided to buy an old-school phone and set up a landline for our 7, 5, and 5-year-olds to be able to interact with their friends without needing our supervision.

Yesterday showed me what a great idea that was.

There was an initial lift from my end

After getting the phone and setting it up, which we chose to do through TinCan, there was a bit of lift from my end to collect phone numbers from friends and neighbors. It was a collective effort since I had to also nudge others to get a landline for themselves.

At first, we had to explain to the kids how calling on a landline works. They practiced (and failed often) dialing phone numbers, asking to speak to their friends, and learned general etiquette about being on the phone. The conversations were short and led nowhere.

With time, though, they all began to become more confident. On Halloween, my oldest called our neighbors and asked what time they'd be ready to meet to go trick-or-treating together. I was starting to see signals of what I had envisioned — setting up playdates without me needing to text another parent.

I was hopeful we were on the right track.

We had a snow day, and the phone rang nonstop

Recently, we had our first snow day of the school year, and by 9 a.m., our phone had been ringing nonstop.

By mid-morning, my kids had invited about a dozen friends to come over and play in the snow with them. This triggered texts from other parents asking if it was OK. Given that they are all so young, they still require some parental assistance, especially since some had to be driven over.

By lunchtime, we had seven kids squealing together, playing in the snow, and having a great time. They required little parental supervision, so my husband did chores outside while they all took turns shoveling snow and riding snowboards.

Everyone got picked up by dinnertime, and my kids shared how this had been the best snow day ever. My cellphone was also full of texts from parents thanking me for taking their kids so they could work.

The landline was a success, and when I posted about it online, it resonated with others — it seems my family isn't the only one that's been missing them. Not only is it starting to give my kids the type of 90s childhood I want to recreate for them, but it is also allowing me to provide that longed-for village parents nowadays need.

Next up, I'm gifting my kids my old Game Boy.