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Tuesday, September 18, 2007

I Don't Care What Color My *&#%ing Parachute Is

As long as the damn thing opens.

So, last week I did one of those half-brave, half-stupid things about which epic ballads are never written. I quit my jobs. All of them.

On the strength of several people telling me I have a modicum of writing talent (not all of them related to me or friends with me or owing me money), I gave up both my day jobs and my night job. It's Wednesday of the first week of being gainfully unemployed, and I'm starting to panic.

While being without a steady source of income is something of a family tradition, I'm not terribly comfortable with it. I make fun of my wee little cave, but that doesn't mean I want to lose it. I'd suck as a homeless person. Remember the toilet incident and the subsequent I-can't-believe-I-have-to-pee-in-the-park meltdown? Now try to imagine me carrying around all my earthly belongings, my two fat cats, and trying to find a place to plug in my electric toothbrush that also has WiFi. It just wouldn't work. And what would Chase Manhattan do with my cave, anyway? Open up a very tiny, very dark, very cramped Beacon Hill branch?

So I'm feeling a bit stressed. Stress is a funny thing. It's a bit like having an annoying roommate of the kind that sneaks up behind you and jabs you in the ribs when you were having an otherwise very nice afternoon. It lurks around dark corners and hides in the "balance" column of my checking account keeping-track thingy. It makes me hungry, then totally puts me off my food, and it turns me into a snapping turtle every time poor Toasty fails to be appropriately sympathetic.

Tonight stress made me go for a run. Actually, I made me go for a run, because I like to think of myself as the kind of person who, when stressed, does something like jogging. This fantasy version of myself is at constant war with my real self who wants to put on her jim jams and fold up on the couch, weeping into a mutantly oversized bowl of popcorn.

But, if I tally up the pros and cons, the yays and the boos, in the end I'm still coming out ahead. I won't be commuting this fall, which means I can put my rabid, mouth-frothing, screaming, cursing but still admirably articulate driver-self on hold for the time being. I won't be teaching, which means I'll probably like people generally a whole lot better. I'll be able to spend more time with the people I care about, maybe even go jogging from time to time.

And who knows? I might just end up with the job that was worth getting all stressed out for.

7 comments:

DK said...

Trust your gut! Congrats!

Ash said...

It's hard to take a leap like that but I suspect that it will work out great!

About the roommate who sneaks up and pokes you in the ribs... did my husband move in with you? That is one of his favorite tricks. He especially likes to do it if I am in a bad mood because he thinks I'm "cute when mad!" Hmmmm.

Ash said...

P.S. You are an excellent writer. I even voted you an on board writer in my meme!

Raggedy Angst said...

Thanks, you guys! Comments from people like y'all are the reason I had the nerve to finally do this. And if it doesn't work out, guess who gets blamed!

NuclearToast said...

Me! I told you to blame me!

Raggedy Angst said...

Oh, I do, sweetie.

Lynn Sinclair said...

You're very brave, but I've a feeling you wouldn't have taken the leap if you weren't sure of success.

(How are the cats enjoying their new toy? I hope it's not gathering any dust--would've hated to steer you wrong).