When the "Fresh Start" Feels Like a False Start: Knowing When to Move On

Starting a new job is rarely easy. Add in a move to a new state, new faces, and a completely new environment, and "intimidating" feels like an understatement. It is stressful.

Usually, there is a curve. You scramble for a few weeks, you learn the ropes, and eventually, things click. You get into a flow, find your balance, and the anxiety transforms into routine.

But what happens when things don’t click? What happens when the "new job jitters" turn into the sinking realization that you’ve made a wrong turn? That is exactly where I find myself right now.

The Rearview Mirror

For the last three years, I had a rhythm. I served as the Camp Host and Maintenance Supervisor at my previous campground. I knew the grounds, I knew the guests, and I took pride in keeping things running. But, as things often do, the job changed. They decided to go in a "different direction" good for them, perhaps, but bad for me.

So, I packed up. I took a leap of faith and accepted a job 300 miles away.

I told myself that different can be good. Sometimes, different is great. It forces you to grow. But as I settled into this new campground, I quickly learned that "different" can also be a disaster.

The Reality Check

I have been here for two months, and the contrast is jarring.

To put it mildly, the management style here is... chaotic. There is no roadmap, no standard operating procedure. Everything is "fly by the seat of your pants." As a maintenance supervisor, I thrive on structure and preventative care. Here, planning is non existent.

Communication is another casualty. It is practically a ghost town unless there is a crisis. I usually only hear from management when they desperately need me to fix something they forgot about or messed up. It is reactive, disorganized, and frankly, exhausting.

The Hard Decision

It has only been eight weeks, but I already know the truth: This isn’t the place for me.

Admitting that feels heavy, but it also feels like a relief. I have paid my dues in this industry. I know what a well run campground looks like, and I know my value as a supervisor. This isn't a case of me needing to "adjust"; it’s a fundamental mismatch of work culture.

So, I am officially on the hunt again. I am looking for a place that values organization, communication, and a job well done.

The Million Dollar Question

Now, I am faced with the dilemma that anyone in this position dreads: When do I tell the owner?

Do I give them a heads up now out of courtesy? Or do I look out for my own livelihood first?

Given the disorganization I’ve witnessed, I have decided to protect myself. I am going to hold out. I won't be handing in my notice until the ink is dry on a new contract somewhere else. It feels a little guarded, but in an environment where communication is already broken, I have to ensure I have a safe place to land before I jump.

Here is to the next 300 miles hopefully, towards a campground that feels a little more like home.