I thought about many titles for this entry, such as “Ch-ch-ch-changes” and “The Times, They are a-Changing.” Then I realized that whenever one needs a lyrical reference to define a point in one’s life, one cannot go wrong with the Brady Bunch.
Soooo…I quit my job last week.
It was a long time coming. Frankly, I hadn’t been happy there for the past 18 months or so—aka once they put me into a managerial position and suddenly it was my job to save a failing company and no matter how much effort I put into it, somehow they would still forget to pay me.
However, I wasn’t planning to leave so quickly, because change, even for the better, terrifies me. I told myself I would stay until December, make sure things were sorted out and my projects were completed. Then I had a breakdown at 2am last Monday and wrote a resignation email. My fingers shook as I hovered over the “send” button, unable to get even the smallest breath in. And then I had one of those elegant moments of clarity as my snot ran into my tears and the salty, snotty mixture made its way to my mouth. Nothing is worth feeling like this. And then, finally able to take a deep breath, I hit “send.”
As it turns out, my internet wasn’t working, and I had to make three attempts to send the email after that. It suddenly became one of those quintessential human vs. uncooperative technology moments. Lots of swearing, lots of huffing and puffing. If you ever want to witness the truth of human nature, watch a room full of people with slow computers.
Once it finally went through, I wish I could say I felt amazing and triumphant because not only had I overcome the machine but had also overcome my fears and negativity. But I didn’t. Instead, I tossed and turned all night asking myself what the hell I just did.
The amazing, triumphant feeling sets in slowly, gradually, when I think of the next job I could have, one with a steady pay check and benefits and security and some time on the side to do the things I love. One that doesn’t have me answering emails and taking phone calls on weekends and late at night that leave me wishing all my fingers were middle fingers.
I have decided to apply to graduate school for the fall at the very last possible minute because that’s how things happen for me. I’m going to study student affairs administration with the hopes of doing academic advising and career counseling for a university. Because despite my complete and utter inability to figure out my own life, I am damn good at telling other people to stop screwing around and to pull themselves together. I am the pot and you are the kettle. Let’s get all steamed up!
I will leave you with a few sometimes helpful clichés: life is ephemeral, do what makes you feel alright, the perfect job is not out there, perfection is not out there, but if you find yourself screaming your feelings of hopelessness into your pillow every night, then it’s time to make a change. And as the Brady Bunch would say, it’s a sunshine day, you’ve got to be in love to love a love song, let me hear some of that good time music, and we’re gonna keep on keep on keep on keep on dancing all through the night.