Until the launch of this blog, there were very few people to whom we could divulge our plans. Aside from a certain amount of discrete disclosure – after all, it is quite difficult to rent out a house without advertising it – our travel cards have been held very close to our chests. This has been for one reason – work.
Announcing your intentions to leave a workplace in advance of a particular date can be a potential nightmare. Aside from being obviously ignored for any potential promotions or pay rises, you run a very real risk of being mistreated, ostracised and outcast. Is there a hugely boring, monotonous task to be done? Give it Mark, he’s leaving soon. Is there a work related trip somewhere exciting? Mark isn’t going, why would we waste our money on taking someone who is quitting? You get the picture. A combination of realism, resentment and jealousy do not a healthy working atmosphere make.
However there remains a delicious irony in the reason we have to keep our silence being the very same as the reason behind the whole adventure in the first place. Don’t get me wrong, I would have wanted to see the world without the monotony of a 9-5 grinding me down for 40 hours a week, but a leap into the unknown can sometimes need a little encouraging push. My 9-5 has given me just that.
Now here I think it is only fair to throw in a disclaimer. I don’t have a bad job. It isn’t overly stressful, my manager is good, I like my colleagues. It has good days and bad days like any other job, but I haven’t been driven to despair by it. The simple fact is that it is just, well, a job.
The few people who knew in advance of our plans all questioned what would happen with our jobs. The look on my nana’s face in particular, when I told her that I was quitting, was something to behold. However I don’t find it difficult to justify. There are many jobs – there is only one world to discover, and I won’t get another chance to do it. It wasn’t the hatred of my job that made me leave, it was the realisation that I could never find my job important enough to keep me where I am… or was.
Quitting is difficult and scary. There is no denying that. The only thing scarier than giving everything up though, is staying exactly where I am