 |
 |
 |
 |
So I quit my job.
Let's backtrack for a minute. First, I was four years old. Then I started school, and I stayed at the same school until I was eighteen. Went to college. Finished college. Temped for a year, lived at home. Went to law school. Took the bar exam. Got a job.
And that's everything that happened to me until about two weeks ago.
I'll have been there for six years as of a week from yesterday, and a week and one day after that will be my last day, December 16th. I never hung much on the walls of my office, which I now suppose might mean something. Never did settle in, exactly. At least I thought I didn't. It's been surprising, cleaning out the office and finding all this stuff.
My ice cream scoop was in my desk, which took quite a while to figure out, but for about two years, I rented the downstairs part of the house of a woman who worked down the hall from me. I think she brought it into the office after I moved out, because I left it in a drawer. She's not there anymore, either in the house or in the office. She sold the house and she's traveling, learning Spanish in Sevilla and finding the best places in India to do yoga.
Little Feet's Christmas card from last year was in the top drawer as well. Her older boy is three, and her little one -- the one with whom she was nine months pregnant when she valiantly scaled the Metrodome stairs to sit with me and Snowmobile Boy at the ALCS -- he's just starting to make intelligible mutterings. I remember when she came into my office in 1999 -- this was before I moved from one side of the sixth floor to the other, escaping the office Snowmobile Boy used to say was cold enough to cure meat -- and for some reason, I thought as she came in, "If she closes the door, it's going to be to tell me she's pregnant." And she did, and she was, and her three-year-old is glorious and funny and, like me, never gets tired of a joke, even the fiftieth time he hears it. She doesn't work there anymore, either. She's home with the boys, right where she wants to be.
I found several versions of the various name tags and badges I've worn over the years. The cute, friendly, pin-on nametag you can't get Full Access without; the clip-on that doesn't work for women who don't have breast pockets in their shirts; the neck strap that they gave us after September 11th, when we were suddenly supposed to wear our real ID badges all the time.
And of course, I have to transport the shoes home. Snowmobile Boy's first reaction, actually, when he heard I was quitting, was that I should immediately put myself on a strict regimen of taking home one pair of shoes a day, and since I was giving about a month's notice, this would just about get the job done. I stay out of nice shoes as much as possible, you see, so I tend to wear tennis shoes to work and then, if I have to be dressy that day, just slip on the office shoes after I get there. But then I never remember or bother to take the dress shoes home at the end of the day when I change them again, so they accumulate in the office along one wall, on a little shoe shelf that just materialized one day in the office, courtesy of the terrific lady who cleans our floor. Sometimes I screw up in the other direction, too, so there are also boots and tennis shoes and things in the office -- but mostly, it's all those heels.
There are things I brought in just to make my life more pleasant -- the CD player, the collection of coffee mugs, the stuffed donkey they gave me at this party, which sits up on a bookshelf hidden from view, lest anyone think he is a political donkey. Most of those things will come to the new place, too.
I found several copies of things that I had at some point printed and walked over to Snowmobile Boy's office so we could argue about them. We do that a lot. Look at this case. This story. This issue. We've only ever had about three real fights that I can remember, and one of them was about Dale Earnhardt. The other two . . . I've forgotten. Fortunately, we are already well-versed in arguing by email, which will still be possible. Possible, but . . . you know, not the same.
It's a lot to pack up, or throw away, or leave for someone else. My things, my good and bad memories, the people who lingered over coffee with me or tolerated my obsessive need to brag about my nephews or pretended they weren't alarmed by the fact that I owned pink shoes. The fantasy baseball league in which my team never did anything but attend the draft and then issue press releases for the rest of the season about how bad we were. The couch in the library where I once grabbed a twenty-minute nap at 7:00 in the morning after working since 7:00 the morning before. The pantyhose with holes in them that wound up shoved in the back of the credenza behind a canvas bag after giving out on me in the middle of the day.
Leaving is, in a sense, my first entirely independent decision. Before this, everything came from what happened before, all the way back to that four-year-old leaving for preschool. You attend a good school, and then a good college, and then if you're smart and you're interested in arguing, law school seems like a pretty good bet, so you do that, and you graduate, and you take the bar exam, and then you have to hurry up and get a job because law school has left you with a mortgage and no house, essentially. Everything, until now, has been Next. Next: College. Next: Law School. Next: Job. Next: Quitting relatively secure full-time job and taking three-quarter-time job in order to devote more time to fantasy of writing.
Wait a minute. One of those doesn't sound quite like the rest of them. Isn't that backwards? Aren't you supposed to get more secure, not less secure, in your adulthood? Am I really packing up my things from a job that I might otherwise have contentedly kept for thirty years? In this economy? I only stayed long enough to get the little tiny penknife as my service award. Now, I will never get the engraved clock, or the watch, or the golf clubs. Granted, I don't play golf, but if I stayed that long, who's to say I wouldn't play golf by the time it was time for me to collect the clubs? Is this the wrong thing?
What if I miss it? What if I miss the fish who lives on the reception desk counter, and the lady who sells me coffee every morning in the basement cafeteria, and the morning rundown of the newspaper headlines in the break room? What if I wake up a month from now and I can't write anything, and I don't have my job anymore, and everyone mutters, "Well, when I heard what she did, I said she was crazy"?
I am going against the plan. I can feel it. It's something, seeing a decision quite this starkly and knowing that you're going to be able to tell if it turns out to be wrong. I suppose it's how you know you're not crazy -- the weight of all your fears comes down on the side of safety, always, which is exactly what your fears are for, I guess.
So I pack another box of shoes and books and imagine what it will be like not to come to this place anymore.
Hey- we don't know each other (I found your site through DHAK), but.
I am absolutely confident that you are making the right decision. Plans are well and good, but sometimes you can't follow them to the letter. And, hey, maybe this is part of the plan, the part where things start to get really interesting.
Congratulations!
Hi - I'm another that's found the site through DHAK and TWOP.
I have to say that as a fellow attorney/writer(trying anyway), I can relate to pretty much every element of your entry.
The big things: decisions, decisions.
The little things: I currently have approximately 15 pairs of shoes in various drawers and cupboards in my office, and at least twice that many name tags!
Congratulations on the decision!
Uli
Am yet another stranger. Congratulations on taking the leap!
Good luck, Miss Alli. Since you are quitting in order to devote more time to writing, I'm sure you'll do great.
You won't die, and you won't disappear - you're doing the right thing... because there is no wrong thing.
Congratulations! It will be an adventure worth taking!
Way to go, Bold Girl!
I did a similar thing 8 yr. ago when I packed up my office shoes and my mugs and left my best friends to care for my African violets. I was so scared, but now? I can't imagine it any other way.
On behalf of all your readers, good luck and God speed. We can't wait for the fruits of your new venture!
Yet another stranger and well-wisher. Taking the leap can be hard. My wife and I quit secure (albeit deadend) jobs, packed up our Mazda and drove around the country for three months. We questioned if we were doing the right thing. We basically blew our chance to buy a house. But, it changed our outlook on life (and politics). We haven't been the same since and I like to think that we're better for having taken the leap.
It's always good to look before you leap but don't let the view scare you. The other side isn't that far away.
Another DHAK reader. . .
Congrats on your decision! It's tough to risk it, but what good is life if it's not full of living?
BTW, I just visited my old office yesterday. I've been gone almost 20 months (left when I had my son). I still have 2 boxes of "rubble" there, as my friend calls it. He is the custodian of my relics. I can't seem to get it together to find the time to go through it and yet there's nothing that important there, or else I would have gotten it by now.
He used to be my chief asst. and was promoted to my position, which is great for him and the organization.
But. He's stuck with these two boxes of my office junk. Some meaningful, mostly not.
There should be a special "office burial ground" for these items.
Good luck! You're a tremendously entertaining writer -- I'd pay to read your work -- and that makes me think it will all work out fine for you.
Well, I am just ecstatic! For me!
While I realize the idea of lunging off that cliff into a free-fall might give you some sleepless nights, selfishly all I can think of is that at least now we'll be getting more consistent weblog and journal entries. Ever since I discovered your hilarious commentaries of "The Amazing Race" on TWOP.com, I've been logging on each morning to read your daily observations. Needless to say, this attorney gig has often kept you from your appointed rounds. Now that you've got all this free time, please don't let me down.
Seriously, as a fellow white-collar desk jockey (as an Art Director at a gay porno magazine, no less!) I understand what you're struggling with. I also have aspirations to be a writer, but that pesky "real" job always seems to get in the way. I try to write 1000 words a day, but somehow the older I get, the faster the day rushes past.
My advice (even though you haven't asked): continue to wake up at the same time every day and park your butt in front of your computer at the usual time. Structure your writing day and make it a daily habit. Without a "real" boss and "real" deadlines, the temptation to read the newspaper, surf the Web, and flick on the TV is very powerful. Stand fast!
Good luck!
Another DHAK lurker here...
I know exactly how you feel -- when you wake up and think, "Hey, wait... how did I get here? What happened? Wasn't I just in high school or something?" and you realize you've been running down the list, checking things off, dutifully stacking the next brick onto the tidy little wall you're creating: school, college, law school, bar exam, job, marriage, house -- and all of a sudden... there you are.
And you feel sort of guilty about feeling trapped, since you have it pretty good, all things considered, but... I know that being an attorney isn't what I want to do for the rest of my life, and right now I'm still too chicken to take the brave step you did. (And I think my husband would probably have a heart attack, seeing as how the house we bought less than a year ago is definitely within our combined budgets but definitely NOT within HIS budget).
But I applaud your gumption and wish you the best of luck -- you're a talented writer, and I have no doubt that you've made the right decision. And besides, you've given me hope that maybe I'll be able to muster up the same kind of courage in a few years.
Congrats, Miss Alli....a hard decision, but ultimately the right one for you. Wishing you all the luck, and a continuation of you wonder TWOP recaps.
Best,
Mike (aka ChgoAtty2001)
Congratulations! I'm sure it was a difficult and scary decision, but if it means we get to read more of your writing now, then yay for us! You are a fabulous writer and I have enjoyed reading whatever you have written, regardless of the subject, so I think you will be successful. Good luck.
Congrats! You totally made the right call, I think. I was scared shitless when I left my 9-5 job to work in TV, since TV is all contract and I had no experience and what if I suck and I never get hired again and then I'm shit out of luck? But it all worked out and it was the best decision I ever made. I think, even if it doesn't work out, you'll never regret taking the chance. But you WOULD regret not trying to do it. Yay!
Wow! I'm so jealous! As a 4-year attorney who hates her job and burns to have more time and brain cells the can come up with creative things to write, I wish I could take this leap too. Isn't it amazing how many writers are ex-lawyers. What does that mean? And why didn't they have some creative writing classes in law school? Oh yeah, I guess legal writing itself is creative. Hee! Anyway, best of luck! Maybe someday, I'll have that side income that lets me take the leap too. Otherwise, I guess I'll wake up one day knowing that my main joy is in making the life of the lowly associate I will then be supervising just as miserable! Cheers!!
My mother (a quite wise woman) always says, "You don't make a right decision; you make a decision, and then make it right." I'm confident that if you're doing what you love, then life will work itself out. It has a funny way of doing that.
Same comments as above. Brave, strong, right thing to do. Another lawyer here who daydreams about being a writer some day, but doesn't have the nerve to do what you've done.
P.S. Just shoes and nametags? I would have about 20 paperback novels, one small TV, and a box of rubber gloves (don't ask) as well.
I did a similar thing five years ago when I quit my decent job that had a future and a 401K and everything, but when I looked around, I noticed that all of the people in management were single, or divorced, or bitter, or some combination thereof. I went back to graduate school and even though the job(s) I have now are nothing like what I imagined when I started school, I have not regretted one single second. Except for the part where I almost gave my mother a heart attack because I gave up my job to become a penniless graduate student at 28.
In other words, I think that smart and talented people like you always land on their feet, and even if the work you end up with isn't exactly the work you imagine right now, getting there will be both rewarding and fun!
Congratulations! And good luck on taking such a big step. Also, remember this: The offer still stands.
Sometimes you just have to close your eyes and jump as far as you can.
Congratulations and best wishes, Miss Alli! For every person who does what you are doing, there are at least a hundred who wish they could/would. I predict you will not regret your decision. You are a very talented writer -- keep up the good work!
Way to go! I would pay to read your work as well - wait, I already do - with the amount of cartridge ink I have used to print out the hardcopies.
You and Bill Bryson are the only two writers that make me literally laugh out loud. I tell my husband that if I ever win a sizable lottery prize I will hire Bill Bryson to travel around the world with me. Now, I will add to that list, commission Miss Alli to come over and watch tv with me.
Found you from TWOP. For what it's worth, you crack me up every week with your recaps of Survivor. Seems to me that writing is your calling and your gift. You are doing the right thing! Best of luck!
One day I printed out an Amazing Race recap to read aloud while my husband cooked dinner. Here's what he heard: "And then - HA! - the HA! - wait 'til you - HA! HA! - oh dear, this is hysterical - *hiccup* -" and so on.
There are very few people I would applaud for quitting their job and going after a writing career. You're one of them.
Hi, Miss Alli! I met you once at the Twin Cities TWoPCon, and I've been lurking here ever since. I am so impressed with what you are doing. I only hope I have that kind of courage and follow-through someday! Following your heart is always the right decision and I'm sure you'll be wildly successful in whatever you choose.
Hey Miss Ali,
I'm re-upping at TWoP after a long hiatus (with a different name as above)...I figured it was bad karma to contribute to the forums AND send in applications to TAR. But after a truly spectacular app submitted by myself and a co-worker (who is, btw, out killing
Bambi now that it is open season), and believing that our video didn't even see the light of day once we sealed it on our 'can't lose' packaging...I give in.
Good luck on your daring life decision...wish I had had guts like that back when I was your age. I just let life happen to me. Never took the bull by the horns back when I could have held on longer. But, I've recouped a little. Wife 'n I took a few bulls by the horn as we straddle the big 4-0: two darling daughters adopted from China. Now that we're back from our last 'addition adventure,' I can turn my attention back to running the TAR office pool and sending in those apps until the show's demise...which will be a sad day. See you on the boards
You are so brave. So I know you'll succeed. I envy you and long to do what you've done. I will also pay to read your work.
Congratulations!
I am in awe of your decision. I am confident that there are many, many people in the world that feel the way you felt - trapped by the Next. You've beaten it by accepting what you want to do instead, and the rest of us who still don't know can only watch you succeed with envy. Unless we get inspired to do the same. All the best!
Go confidently in the direction of your dreams! Live the life you imagined. -Thoreau
I can say that I have never felt better than when Mr. Fetish (that sounds MUCH more kinky than it is) and I decided to create or "Amazing Three Year Plan" of paying off the bills, downsizing, and then moving overseas.
I think one of the best things a person can do is live their life with no regrets. The past is what made you, you make your future. Twenty years from now you will only regret those things you didn’t do, not those you did. We figure that even if we only stay there for a year, at least we can say we did it.
I don’t know if you believe in it or not, but perhaps this is part of your Return of Saturn…It sounds hokey – but basically between the years of I think, 27 and 30 (you don’t look over 30 in pics I’ve seen) Saturn is in the same location as it was at your birth and signals a large life change.
Best of Luck though! I am sure you will succeed! I’m going to definitely get something out of it too - tons of witty, intelligent, overall fabulous writing.
When I moved from Boston to San Francisco my mantra was "ChangeisGoodChangeisGoodChangeisGood" (repeat ad nauseum or until you actually believe it). And you know what? It was. It wasn't easy, but it was good. (Crap, who let Hemingway in here?)
Deep breath. You'll be fine. After all, you have us.
Kiss-kiss!
(aka AllAboutMBTV)
Girl, you are my idol! I wish I had the guts to do what you did. Granted, I have no money saved up but even if I did, I still don't think I'd be able to do it. Change terrifies me. Sometimes I sit at work and think about how unhappy I am, but the thought of leaving a place that keeps me in my comfort zone is too scary. Not that you need my approval or anything but, for what it's worth, I think you made a great decision! And I applaud your bravery!
And just for the sake of sharing, when I left my last job, random things I found in my desk: a shoe lace, a deflated beach ball, and a "Where's Waldo" book. (Don't ask because I don't know.)
There's a Spanish proverb: "God laid everything out for man to see, and told him, 'Take whatever you want. Then pay for it.' "
Miss A, from the perspective of a forty-five-year-old who kicked over the traces and ditched "The Plan" almost twenty years ago, let me reassure you (although I'm of the opinion that you don't really need reassurance) that you will have some regrets, and you will have some scary times, and there will be days that you think you must have been committably insane. But that you would not only consider ditching the Plan, but actually *do it* is a good indication that for you, this *is* the right Next Thing. Trust me, the regrets and the frights will be short-lived and frail things, compared to the soul-deep satisfaction that comes of working on your own dreams.
Everyone has their own Next, if they look for it and are willing to reach for it. Some never look, some never reach, and for some, Next is predictable. Those people may not understand that your Next isn't the same as theirs; they may give you the whole "not living up to your potential" or "what a waste" or any of the myriad other verses in that song. Let them sing it if they like it, but dance to your own music. It's so much more exhilarating.
Miss Alli, good luck. I can't wait to read more of your writing. You must remember to keep us informed of anything you get published. Remember, you have your own fan base right here, so don't be afraid, just go for it!
Best wishes from a loyal admirer, Miss Alli! I'm confident that someone as smart, witty, and insightful as you knows the right decisions to make. I look forward to hearing of further developments.
Congrats Miss Alli! Your recaps of Big Brother (can you hear me audibly shuddering?) are what drew me to TWoP in the first place, and we always need more and more talented writers in the world; there's plenty of folks around for the litigation stuff. I have also given thought to "ditching it all" and starting down the path I've always wanted to go down (music) you have certainly given me something to chew on. Thanks and good luck.
Many people come to a point in the path of their life where they can see what is to come, what will be. The details may be out of focus, but they're there, understood. Some see this and choose a different way, they choose not to settle for what's easy and all but already there. It's not an easy thing to do, it most likely will be the most difficult thing you will do individually in your life, but it may also be the most rewarding. Hell, it may also be the scariest.
I wish you the best with what you're doing. I have no doubt in your ability or with your ultimate success. Keep us posted. Oh, and enjoy that last days walk out of your office. I'm truly jealous of that...
Best of luck with the new job Miss Alli. I would wish you luck with writing but you do not need it. Talent trumphs luck everytime (eventually) and you have more than enough.
I'm sure you'll find your groove, Miss Alli.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained, as they say.
Plus, now you can once again enjoy ice cream without getting your hands all sticky!
Yeah! When I talked to you at TARcon4, it sounded like you were gearing up for a change, and I think this'll be a great opportunity for you. Keep us posted on how it goes!
We know you will succeed at whatever you decide to do in life....and as the receiver of that pointed pen of yours, well it WAS fun! XXOO
Not signed by order of the Alli.
Congratulations. You're doing something I've wished for years that I could do. And I know you'll be better than fine. And when you do, it will be encouragement for the rest of us who sit on the sidelines and wish we had half of your courage. Be brave, be bold, write your heart out and you can't help but succeed.
Hey: Congratulations and good luck with everything! I left the law behind last year (after four years as a lawyer) and I can relate to everything you're saying. I've had to deal with a huge reduction in income, my mother telling me that I'm going to end up poor and how could I give up my wonderful law career, and the general adjustment of not being a Lawyer anymore (I'm pretty glad to leave behind all the jokes people felt compelled to tell me upon hearing that I was a lawyer) -- and overall I am so much happier and so much more glad just to wake up in the morning to pursue the things that I enjoy and that give me energy. So best of wishes to you -- after reading your amazing recaps I have confidence that you'll do just great on your new path.
Write your ass off. You're so freaking good at the TWOP recaps, that just from me obsessively checking for one over Thanksgiving week, my whole family got hooked on you, and we're all as different from each other as clay and granite and feathers. I admire your guts and can't wait to read what you do next. Congratulations on the TV Guide Survivor thing too!
Miss Alli, I heart your TWoP Apprentice and Survivor recaps! They are always a perfect mix of logical exposition and undeniable snarkiness. I hunted down your MSNBC contributions too, and they did not disappoint. Keep writing!
I have to say that your journal entry is exactly what I needed to read these days. I have had a Life Plan similar to yours: school, college, work 2 years to get experience for grad school, grad school...which is where I am now. I'm a PhD candidate at an Ivy League school now, 4 years into my degree in biology and probably 2.5 years from the end, and I have recently decided to leave school. I realized, as you did, that it is the first time I am choosing for myself what to do, not just going with the expected career flow.
What is ahead of me now? All I know is, it's not a 6-year stint in some lab as an indentured postdoc, followed by a hypercompetitive career as a professor racing to become a world expert on some miniscule corner of the universe. Looking back, I can't believe that was ever something I wanted. It's hard keeping my decision a secret from my boss and coworkers, but I can't chance making my situation any worse with disdainful looks and behavior. I can't wait to find a job. I thought it would be easy, I have 2 master's degrees in biology from a good school, I hope someone hires me soon. I am running out of money and definitely running out of patience with my PhD lab work! I don't think it is too much to ask by expecting just a little joy out of one's work. Right?
Enough from me...I appreciated your candid thoughts on life swervings. Please continue to update as often as you can, and good luck with your new life. I am so happy for you, and I hope you continue to write as much and as often as you like and as boldly and amusingly as we like.
Thanks for signing in, . Now you can comment. (sign out)
(If you haven't left a comment here before, you may need to be approved by the site owner before your comment will appear. Until then, it won't appear on the entry. Thanks for waiting.)
