Quitting

I'm a quitter. A big, fat ol' quitter! Whether you love your job or not, and the former is true for me, there is no bigger joy than saying, "I quit."

I QUIT!

It's the last day of school before summer vacation; it’s a three-day weekend; it’s waking up and deciding to spend the whole day in bed. You have nothing you have to do; it feels like you’ve stolen a moment, under the covers with a flashlight, happy in your little fort while the world continues to move around outside you.

There is a sick and wonderful joy in just...walking away. Especially when you are doing it to live a big fat ol’ cliché called “Quitting your job and traveling around the world.” Come on, we’ve all thought about it; dreamt about it; threatened it after a particularly bad day (or bad relationship or bad credit card bill). But to actually do it is predictably freeing and oddly anticlimactic.

There is nothing better than sitting down with your boss and saying “I’ve decided to leave, because I just want to take a year off and travel.” Imagine for a second saying it to your boss. There is really no response to this statement. It’s even better than “I quit.” It’s kind of like telling the world, “Hey, eff you, I just won the lottery and what are you gonna do about it?!” What can they do about it, but envy and loathe you for your fabulousness. This is the one time in your life when being a quitter is good, it’s great, people like you for it.

But, is it easy to quit? Not really. Because, I’m not just quitting my job. I’m quitting everything. My paycheck, my shower with hot water, my lovely & wonderful bed, my friends, my routine, my life. Quitting means saying goodbye. For me, I’m not just saying goodbye to my job and my colleagues, but I’m saying goodbye to the me that I am now. People often hesitate to quit a job without having another job to go to. Imagine the hesitation when you are quitting your life, without being entirely sure of the life you are moving towards. It’s exciting, it’s terrifying, it’s completely intangible.

Besides the healthy fear that comes from purposefully flipping off your comfort zone, there is also a feeling of disappointment once the high from quitting fades. It’s a let-down after you’ve told everyone: you’ve got a big “I’m Special” tiara on…that no one really cares about. And honestly, where do you go from there? You don’t just walk into the sunset, effortlessly breezing onto a plane with a humble, Angelina Jolie-esque “I’m gonna change the world” smile plastered to your face. Before I go, I have to: figure out how much money I’ll need (and where the hell it’s coming from), decide on locations, book tickets, organize my bills, research visas, vaccinations, volunteer programs, language courses, wet & dry seasons, insurance, what to bring, what to leave behind, what I want to get out of this, what I want to give…in short, I need a big fat ol’ list. Maybe two.

The point is, quitting is only the beginning. It’s the best start to any journey. My colleague, the wise and wonderful Rebecca, gave me the best advice on quitting and starting my adventure: “Remember us, but forget work entirely.”