Holy HELL, I only have three more days at work! Eep! I’ve been contemplating and dreaming about this moment for what feels like a very long time, and I even gave my workplace more notice than was officially needed for my resignation. But! Now that the Big Day is nearly upon me (FRIDAY!), I’m in a little bit of a state. I can’t believe I’m leaving my job!!
Overall, I still feel excited about the future and confident that putting my notice in was the right decision. However, sometimes I catch a wave of craziness sweeping over me. I’m leaving my job! ME, of all people!! Have I lost my freaking mind?! Normally, I’m all about routines, comfort, and a certain level of predictability. I generally don’t take risks, especially ones involving my finances. But here I go, leaving a job with decent pay and great benefits to brave the potential ups and downs of the bohemian lifestyle. And I feel excited about it! Nay, thrilled!!!
It was a very long and sometimes painful process to get to the point where embarking on a new career path seemed more life-affirming than terrifying. First, there was the guilt. The thought of handing my responsibilities over to my already-burdened colleagues, just so I could go hang out by the water and have fun, created sickening knots of worry in my stomach. Guilty feelings sat like heavy stones inside of me and easily weighed down any fanciful thoughts I had of pursuing my dreams or indulging my creative side. Guilt kept me paralyzed and in my place for a considerable stretch of time.
Then there were doubts– so many doubts. I wondered a lot about the economy and also about the weather. Was it wise to leave a secure position in the midst of an uncertain economy and a potentially cold and wet summer? Could I really handle the petty politics and the mini-dramas of the inner harbour, day in and day out? Should I be focusing on my own creative path, rather than taking on a more supportive summer role for my husband? (i.e. Should I be busting out, Independent Woman style? Or could working with/for my partner be considered a feminist move? Feminist enough?)
Doubt paved the way for anxiety and hypothetical disaster scenarios. Could we still afford to pay our rent? Buy our groceries? Treat ourselves to evenings out and occasional nice things? What if one of us busted all of our teeth out and needed a dentist, badly? What would we do? And how would we manage if ____________ happened? Dear god, how would we cope when the world came crashing down all around us?
Somehow, despite my over-sensitive Panic Button and fine-tuned Guilt-O-Meter, I’m still feeling excited about this move, so it has to be a good thing, right? I’m at the point where trying the art business out– even if we fail at it (and I hate failing)– is more important to me than staying in the same place and not taking the chance at all. I need to know that both of us put 100% into this endeavour and to see where that gets us. If I didn’t leave my job, I’d always wonder what could have been, if only…
An added bonus is that I truly believe that Marty and I can do exceptionally well on this path, as a team! I have a really good feeling about this whole thing, and that feeling alone helps keep me grounded when the urge to yell JUST KIDDING! I’m not actually resigning! to my coworkers whilst laughing like a madwoman washes over me…
Three more days.