Two days ago, on my birthday, I quit my job. Just walked right the fuck out.
And you know what? It felt amazing. The moment those doors were behind me, I felt an immense weight come off of me. Despite the fact that my finances are nothing short of FUBAR right now and in the weeks to come, I felt happier and more hopeful than I have in a very long time.
I’ve been feeling done with that place for a very long time. I’d write why, but it doesn’t matter anymore. It’s behind me. What does matter, however, is the concern that it took me this long to finally do something about it. I’ve been preaching for the longest time about finding somewhere else to work.... But then I just never did.
I’d like to give some grand reason as to why. Maybe play the “I felt trapped” card. But the reality is that I just had no motivation. No drive. It’s not that I was spinning my wheels - my foot wasn’t on the gas at all. It’s like I’d just consigned myself to being miserable for some reason.
But that’s done now. I’m out. Now I have no choice but to press forward and find a new job. Something that won’t make me so miserable. I’m not sure where this sudden motivation came from, but I’m clinging to it. Maybe it was finally just too much bullshit.
I said that morning that this birthday wasn’t just a day to start over with my job, but with a lot of things. To build a better me. I’m going to stick to that. Step one was opening up this account. A little place to get out and sort my thoughts. Step two, apply for some jobs.
Wait… Maybe step two should be coffee…
Actually now that I’m thinking about it, step one should have been coffee.
Gah I’m already fucking up.