The Trap

The cat's been out of the bag for almost two weeks now. I'm a quitter. And when I tell people, the first question they always come back with pertains to my plan.  Specifically, they want to know where I'll be working next.

Some ask: "Did you get something better?"  Some ask: "Are you staying in the industry?"  Some ask: "When do you start?" The underlying assumption is that I'm going to be working for a new company. New boss, new building, new salary. The idea that someone would leave one job without having another lined up simply doesn't compute with a lot of people.

I've done this before. Since my early twenties, I've been caught up in a strange habit. I would take a job, do it for a while, then quit. I always made sure I had some money saved up before quitting, but starting a new job right after ending the last one typically wasn't my way. I would quit, live off my savings for a few months, then start over at a new job.

This method has never impressed people. In fact, it's been seen as less acceptable the older I've gotten. But I can't seem to make it work any other way. When I finally quit a job, it's usually because I've hit rock bottom there. The novelty has long worn off, the work itself has drained my mental energy and killed my creative spark, and the relationships I've built aren't powerful enough to cancel out the rest of it. I need a hard reset. I need to remember who I am.

I'm sure this sounds like a lot of millennial bullshit to some. In some circles, I do qualify as a millennial (albeit one of the older ones). This group has a reputation for being lazy and entitled. They don't understand that you have to "pay your dues" in order to earn the things you want from this life. They don't understand the value of work.

I understand the value of work. I understand that it builds character, and that it gives you a sense of satisfaction when you finally reach that goal you toiled towards. But I don't agree that it's the be-all-end-all.  I don't agree that a year without absences is something to be impressed by. I don't agree that it's commendable to drag yourself to work with walking pneumonia just to hold onto that record. There has to be a balance.

The world wants us to value work above all else, because we're more useful that way. We each play a part, however small, in keeping things moving. The world wants to run smoothly, but it can only do that when all the cogs are in place. Do I want to be a cog?

I've worked with so many people who were convinced that they couldn't miss a single day of work, or everything would immediately fall apart. I've been that person. We're brainwashed to believe that the company can't function unless we're all there, doing our jobs. But none of these places ever went up in flames because one of us missed a day or two. None of them crumbled when I quit.

We're supposed to spend the bulk of our adulthood earning money. When we hit age 65 or so, we're allowed to stop. We call this retirement. It's the reward; the carrot on the stick that keeps us running.

To me, it's somewhat of a Christian notion; this idea that we'll reach our "heavenly reward" at the end of our natural lives. At 65, our lives aren't over, but our bodies are certainly past their prime. We'd be hard pressed to enjoy some of the adventures we might have liked to explore when we were younger, had we not been chained to a job.

Never mind the fact that recessions or poor financial planning can cause people to have to keep working well past their sixties. Never mind the fact that some of us won't live long enough to ever make it to retirement age. It's the game, and we've all been tricked into thinking we have to play it.  We're shamed if we don't submit to "the way things are." We're told to grow up.

Most people don't love their jobs. If they did, there wouldn't be so many songs about "working for the weekend" or "is it Friday yet?" There wouldn't be so many jokes about "TGIF" and "Mondays, amirite?" Work is somewhere we HAVE to be, not somewhere we WANT to be. Given the choice, all but a few of us would rather be somewhere else.

We stay because we feel stuck. We need money.  We need security. We fear change. We fear failure. But if we stay at a job we hate, can we call that success? Is it something to be proud of?

We've lost the plot, I think. Time might drag now and then, particularly on Monday mornings, but life is actually very short. So many things are more important than work. I'm choosing to devote my time and energy to the things that matter to me, like my relationships, and my home, and my writing.

Not everyone has the luxury of walking away from a paying job. I know that. I know money matters. But a lot of us could survive on less than we spend now. It's not a necessity to have that expensive home, or vehicle, or gadget. It's not a necessity to take that extravagant vacation. I'm sure spending helps to soften the blow of the weekly time sacrifice. I'm sure a fancy vacation is a beautiful and relaxing diversion. But for me, none of these things can ever correct the imbalance created by the standard "50 weeks on, 2 weeks off" work schedule.

I don't want to spend my life counting down to Friday. I don't want my happiness to start at age 65. I want to break the cycle. I want to work for myself, doing something I care about, and I want to thrive.

I'm going after what I want. If that makes me entitled, so be it.