I quit my job a few weeks ago. There, I said it. After 6 years of steady, benefit filled employment, I quit. It felt less ceremonial than I imagined. Maybe it’s because I quit long ago, I just never told my body to stop driving in each day to sit in my three-walled cube.
My internal rumblings of dissatisfaction began a while ago, an itch here, a bout of malaise there. Sometimes my frustration peaked rapidly and then deflated with a whoosh. Other times it built slowly, festering, into a quiet contempt.
It’s not that I didn’t like working per se or even working in my current industry. I was just ready for something new–a new challenge, a new adventure. But, I had fallen into the lull of routine, of the known, the easy. It was scary to leave a secure job and embark on something new, something where failure was a possibility.
Then, almost exactly a year ago, I took the first step. I asked to work part time. And within a month, I was working 24 hours per week. This helped. It really did. I was less prickly both at work and at home. I had more free time to work on my novel. And, in my world, Wednesday was the new Friday.
The problem was I still wasn’t happy. This is how things went for most of the year:
Me: Why am I still working there? I don’t like it anymore. I want to do something different.
My husband: Why don’t you look for something else?
Me: Where would I find something that paid this well and still allowed me to work part time?
My husband: Do you want a glass of wine?
Me: Just bring the whole bottle. (Not really, but you get where I’m going.)
Then, something just happened. I’d been working on my novel since November and I was feeling really great about it (my emotions about my book waffle between sheer brilliance and the possibility that vampires are so 1897). I felt confident, bold, and unstoppable. So, bolstered by my new inspirational board on Pinterest, I decided to quit. This is how it went:
Me: I think I’m going to quit. I’ve decided to give my notice on July 1st.
My husband: Sounds good. You know I believe in you. What are we going to do for money?
Me: I dunno. Maybe I can do some consulting work. It’ll be great. Plus, I have a best-selling book on my hands. Remember?
My husband: Oh yeah. We’ll be millionaires soon. How about a glass of champagne?
Me: Yes. Make it something fancy. Like Cristal or Dom Perignon. You know, since we will be straight ballers soon.
And with that, the decision was made. Where do I go from here? I have some ideas. Of course, a publishing contract is in my future 🙂