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Above: A low-res photo of an incoming Howard University freshmen who just knew everything was LIT before LIT was even a thing.
As soon as I stepped foot on the campus of Howard University in Fall 2015, I knew exactly how my life would pan out for the next 4 years. I’d graduate “on time” with Honors and land the glamorous job of my dreams. From there, I’d move into my own place in NYC and prance around the Big Apple like a black Carrie Bradshaw, swapping out the Manolo Blahnik’s for something a little more fitting for these poorly paved New York City Streets.
Guess What…None of that shit happened but I’m still alive and well
Instead, I graduated a “lil’ late, moved back home (still in the Big Apple…meh) and landed a job that I could tolerate until something better came along. 1 year and 2 months post graduation, I quit that job that I forced myself for a whole 12 months to believe was for me. It was the excitement of even having a job post-college that held me over and kept me “happy” the first 3 months of my “tenure”. Sh*t basically went downhill from there.
The pay sucked but I wasn’t a broke-ass college student trying to pay rent working a part-time retail job and bringing in a few hundred dollars a month from Freelance writing gigs. The main reason for me deciding to move back home was because the struggle was super real in college. I needed to exhale from that b.s. …however, that’s a story for another day. Back to this painful 9-5 of mine.
Don’t get me wrong, work was SUPER f**cking annoying most days, however, I did my job VERY WELL. I got along with most people while others often made their job tasks mine, dumping task after task on me to the point of burn out.
Listen, I tried to just stick it through but I was pretty much mentally, physically and emotionally drained. I tried taking a vacation and came back smiling for one day… the next day I screamed. For months I contemplated quitting then I finally got the lady balls to make my exit stage left.
YOU SHOULD ALSO READ: “What I Learned From My First Solo Vacation”
How did I know It was time to quit?
I cried…a lot…and that just ain’t me.
There were those couple of months that I cried every day asking myself “how did I end up here?”. I didn’t get why I was doing something that I didn’t like for a few dollars an hour and a ton of my valuable time.
Getting out of bed was a big task…traveling was an even bigger one
Yeah I’d show up to work looking like “who did it and ran” as my Nana used to say. I would have no motivation to go to work, I’d just showed up so I wouldn’t get fined…basically.
I no longer put the extra care into the projects and assignments I had. I got it done but it was meh…mediocre at best towards the end.
The people I vented to minds shifted about the situation.
The people that pretty much knew that I was planning to quit went from telling me “You can’t quit a job without another job lined up” and “Almost everyone hates their job” to “Girl, do what you gotta do.”. The most un-convincible people in my life were now rooting for my exit.
It affected other areas of my life
I didn’t want to do things that usually interested me. Specifically, my creative drive was gone. Kaput. I didn’t really feel like writing, or doing my makeup and experimenting with my hair like I actually loved to do. Some days I went weeks without painting my face. I even put my blog on pause for about a month. Sh*t was real y’all.
Ultimately, I value my peace of mind over a paycheck and that is why after months of contemplating I quit my job. No, I don’t have a job lined up paying a few more dollars an hour. I do however have faith and a heavy stressful weight lifted off my shoulders.
YOU MAY ALSO LIKE: Why I Decided To Keep A Prayer Journal and Why You Should Too
Some people may think I’m crazy for doing this. At least I’m not getting any more gray hair or developing a bald spot in the middle of my head. This was actually happening to me, by the way.