I’ve been putting some serious thought into quitting my job. I’m checking the calendar to make sure the current stirring isn’t coming from an emotional place. Or, if it is, it’s persistent and genuine. And I’m also holding steady where I’m at to see if, like many ideas, isn’t because of just where I stand with the company right now.
Could be residency this week. It’s so tough to toggle between two worlds. I recognize that the reason I don’t have time to focus more on that is because of my responsibilities as a wife and mother and employee. And I don’t want to sacrifice my time with my kids or Jim. And something has to give.
I suppose I’ve got a little inkling that writing through this today will help me decide what to do. That it will help me lay all the factors out, side by side, so I can come to some conclusion.
What a strange problem to have though right? I’ve been living my “new” life for about a year and a half and still it feels strange to me to be having this conversation with myself. I mean, the fact that quitting my job at all is an option. How weird. But there it is. Right in front of me.
Jim and I went on a day trip yesterday to visit the Ashfall Fossil Beds in Nebraska. Three hours out and back with a half hour at the actual site. It was fascinating to see a giant barn built around and excavation site. That we could know, through scientific methods, that the fossils being uncovered there are almost 12 million years old.
Feels like something you’d read in a fictional novel. Real dystopian like. All these animals gathered around a watering hole one day and then a cataclysmic natural disaster happens (the volcano in what is now Idaho) and within a few weeks everything is covered in ash and all the animals are dead. Right where they were.
There’s a baby rhino in position to succle from its mom. It was surreal to see such a collection. And to know it was 12 million years old blows m mind.
Life is so fragile and we don’t know what can happen tomorrow.
Last night Jim and I watched a documentary about the making of the atomic bomb. Human beings have gathered enough knowledge that we don’t even have to rely on a natural disaster. We’ve engineered the means for mass destruction without the help of Mother Nature or the volatility of the earth.
The heat from the test blast was so hot it disintegrated the tower that dropped the bomb and turned sand to glass for 800 meters around the detonation point. Hundreds of thousands of people were killed at Nagasaki and Hiroshima. No warning or chance to get away from the places they frequented for sustenance or for conversation or to nurse their newborn.
We are all temporary.
We are all subject to circumstances outside of our control.
If we had a choice to make more of every day, why would we not make that choice?
Why would I? What am I holding on to? What am I afraid of?
When the pandemic first hit, it was a relief to know we would still have income if Jim’s business had to close. But the possibility of that happening has been alleviated now. Now it’s mostly back to normal and even if it gets bad again, I doubt there will ever be a shut down at that level,
My company hired a new person. Someone to do my same job. My PM actually announced it by saying “she’s another Shyla”. Ohhh kay.
They expected me to want to go full time when I was done with school. I never once committed to that and now they are realizing they need someone in my position full time. She starts today. I’m responsible for part of her onboarding. We have a meeting first thing today (PST). Goodie.
Nothing like tiny little pin pricks, the way that that is. I can’t do full time so I’m being replaced. Maybe it would be better if I saw the positive side of this. It’s a gift that I can be replaced so easily and I don’t have to feel guilty for backing out of any perceived commitment. The question morphs from “should I quit” to “when”. Still, the pin pricks don’t go away.
Wherever I am, whatever I’m doing. It’s just temporary
Quitting is never easy.
I just don’t know. I suppose I’ll simmer with these thoughts a little longer. Set a deadline. Give it a week.
Let’s see how this week goes.
That’s all I’ve got today. It’s enough.