Not Scarface from Half Baked quitting, but quitting. I’ve hated this job for a long time, and life is too short to spend 40 hours of every week doing work that makes me homicidal. So I’m quitting. I have no idea what I’ll do next. I’ve looked at everything from dog-walker to cheese researcher to ninja. The possibilities are endless. It’s overwhelming and exciting and terrifying. In the best way.
Talking with Eric yesterday:
me: I’m just typing up my letter of resignation and am having a freak-out moment.
shit’s about to be really real.
Eric: don’t freak out.
shits about to be AWESOME + .5
me: just .5?? auuuugggggggghhhhh!
Eric: maybe I meant *1.5?
AWESOME AND A HALF.
me: oh. okay…
except i feel like I might vomit.
Eric: i believe in you.
me: i was right. i could send it.
and also whatever the emoticon is for “oh, holy fuck.”
Eric: uh, no idea.
something like that perhaps?
me: exactly that.
I do realize that the economy is kind of in the crapper right now and quitting a perfectly good (albeit godawful boring) job to go find my bliss is probably incredibly irresponsible. I do have those moments of clarity. Fortunately for me though, I have super-supportive people in my world. Ones that remind me that change is active. And good. And scary. And sometimes it needs to be irresponsible. Sometimes you just have to jump.
So here I go, friends. I’m jumping.