From winning things to losing things, this has been a week of firsts.
On Monday, I won the opera.
On Tuesday, I lost the job.
Or, rather, I quit the job. I’m shedding my current 9-5 and exchanging it for a 10-6, come January. I will miss my work environment in many ways, but am raising my mug of peppermint tea to a better employment year in 2012.
In the meantime, let’s talk about quitting. Has anyone ever done it? Was I alone in quaking in my boots throughout the day until the hour of declaration came around? I feel like we often tell ourselves when the going gets grievous,
“well, I can always quit”
but when do we ever actually select that option? I wonder if we – especially Americans – see quitting as the easy way out: something we wouldn’t honestly dream of stooping to do; a reflection of weakness of character; the first signs of moral bankruptcy; of mutiny on the bounty.
And it was the easy way out, in a way. Decision led to execution led to success – I succeeded in quitting in a matter of minutes. But the act of doing it was torturous. I wriggled with guilt, stammered with sheepishness, shivered with the coldness of the words in my mouth. “I am here to hand in my notice” sounded like “this job, or more to the point, ‘you people’, are not good enough for me”. What nerve! What brazenness!
What honesty, in the end of the day, if an unpleasant honesty. May this First be in a party of Few. I don’t relish facing those looks of disappointment again.
But my mug remains raised. To tomorrow’s adventure?