I quit my job yesterday. Not because I no longer need the money, but because I think that if I were to have continued, I would be slowly chipping away at the carefully cut marble statue that is my sanity.
Like many of you, I imagine, I started working in high school. Back then, I very much thirsted for my independance and I knew money would free me just a little, so, naturally I was obliged to get a job.
Since then, I’ve always held something down. And even now, in only the first stages of my unemployment it feels weird and wrong to have free time like this. Yesterday, I was pacing back and forth in my room wondering what to do— believe I have lots on my to-do list—, I’m wondering to myself “what do I want to do?” and “what now?”.
I saw a tweet the other day that said something like “Think back to the happiest moments in your life, you were probably unemployed.” and I think about it a lot. I think about myself coming home too exhausted to begin to think about anything else more than I’d like to admit. That is most nights working full time.
In the grand scheme of things the idea of work is mundane because we all do it. You need money to survive and we each make sacrifices, or moves based on our skill sets and interests to get by. That is survival, that is a part of life.
But then, in the case of myself, or any others who are burning through 40+ hour work weeks outside of their interests (especially those in your early 20’s) where do we find time to form our identities? Where do we have time to form interests or opinions, change our minds, question everything, open up, close back down again to ponder? Then all of a sudden, days, weeks, months have passed. When was the last time you had a day all to yourself, listening to your own thoughts, hearing what you have to say, doing all your favourite things?
This post is for my workaholics, always on the roll for the next cheque (both by necessity and habit). A wealth of free time is a privilege that many simply don’t have, but it can truly be compared to just the right serving of your favourite dessert. One you haven't had in a long time. You forget how wonderful it tastes and feels, your senses tingle, you feel lost as you eat because each bite you take means the fun is almost over.
We have identities that exist outside of actions we take in order to survive.
The wonderful thing (but also terrifying at times) about the human experience is that we are constantly changing. The time you have with yourself is precious, view it as a touch base with your spirit and being. Revisit your thoughts and opinions, ask yourself questions and watch the answers change as you do.
Truly, I give myself one week tops before I’m thrust back into work again. Until then, I’ll be savoring the extra hours of sleep and moments I’ll get to observe what I really think, and what I really feel.