I’m not good at many things, but one thing I know I did well was quit my job. In fact, I’m gonna go right out and say it. I’m really good at saying “no,” “I don’t think so,” “when monkeys fly out of my ass,” you know.
I’m an excellent quitter.
Once I decided to pull the plug, I did it, and didn’t look back. It may have costed me headaches freelance work, but whatever, I had decided I wanted to be a slave to the little man a full-time SAHM. And, so here I am, still changing adult-sized poops one year after I stormed into my old boss’s office and told her what’s what.
Why am I getting into all this now? Because I have a ton of friends who are ready to pull the plug (even in this economy) and they’re nervous as hell about what to do. So they call me because I once was like them, full of vim and vigor for the workplace only to have it sucked out of me like the squeegie-tool gets the snot out of a baby’s nose. They, like all boogers, want out. Any way they can.
But getting out is scary. Going from a cozy place, whether it be a nostril, or your sky-high office with well-paying job is scary. And here’s where I can help. (And where the squeegie-nostril analogy will end.)
(Almost.)
I’ve been thinking about it for awhile, as you can tell, and I think it’s time for my unsolicited advice for all my friends out there on how to psych yourself up to quit your job. (Drumroll, please.)
- Once you have made the decision, STICK TO YOUR GUNS. Negotiating with your boss is a little lot like negotiating with your toddler. Giving in is sin. And what I mean by this is that if they want you to stay on a month and you want to give two weeks, split it in the middle and stay for three. Unless they’re gonna throw in some ridiculous hanger-on bonus or something.
- Don’t worry about what you’re going to do after you quit. If you are quitting to spend more time with your kids, then maybe try that until you’re blue in the face from playing Candyland all day long. And then you’ll kick yourself for not being back at work. I’M JUST KIDDING. Nothing’s permanent. If it’s not working for you at home, I’m sure there are other jobs out there. Welcome to McDonald’s, can I help you?
- I know, I know, you’re worried about child care. If you quit, you’ll lose your nanny, you can’t afford day care anymore, you don’t need the help. And you probably can’t or don’t. But really, who needs extra help when you get to spend every waking moment with that little ray of sunshine you call caffeine. I mean, really?
- Really, you know yourself better than anyone else. You know what’s best for you. Not your cubemate, not the mail delivery guy, and no, not the barista on the first floor. When you’re ready to leave, you just know. Trust your gut. Even if it’s put on a few pounds in the last year.
Now go on, get! You’ll be happy, I promise. Just think, in a year, you’ll have mastered the SAHM thing just like I did: you’ll have figured out exactly how to force-your-child-to-sleep-all-afternoon-so-you-can-watch-your-favorite-shows-and-dick-around-on-your-computer-while-simultaneously-empyting-the-dishwasher.
It’s a beautiful thing.
{ 4 comments }
