So, I Quit My Job Again.

In all honestly it’s been coming for a while. Definitely since the Store Director changed to a woman who came in for two weeks last October and managed to get on every single employee’s bad side. I even texted Green at the time that happened warned him, essentially, I may not be long for this job.

The last straw came in a series of write-ups. Not write-ups for the purpose of correcting me so that I might better do my job, but write-ups in the form of upper management puffing their chests up and saying, “You can’t do that because WE SAID SO.”

I tend to get a lot of flack for quitting jobs so frequently. I have never held down a “day job” for longer than three years. Many people argue I should find a new job before I quit my old one, or at least save up a cushion before I quit.

All of this is very logical and probably, to some degree, very true. Unfortunately, it goes against my nature.

The moment I feel that a job is trying too hard to control me, that is when I begin to rail against it. And if pushed too many times, I feel it’s my duty, out of respect for myself, to leave.

I can find peace with day jobs if I’m allowed small personal freedoms throughout. If those personal freedoms get picked away, and I’m enslaved with the task of stripping my personality and joy away for a set amount of hours while I pretend to be someone else for the benefit of others, that I can’t do.

Quitting is my way of reminding myself that at the end of the day, I have the choice to go to work and I have the choice to not go. I have the choice to do anything I want. I forget this a lot. I let myself fall into the commonly held idea that having and keeping your job is the be-all, end-all of existence. You are unstable and driftless without one. Your world devolves into chaos.

The truth is, that’s only true if you believe it is. In the grand scheme of things, jobs like the ones I’ve had are just jobs. They’re not who you are. They’re not why you wake up in the morning. They pay the bills. But there comes a point when the amount on the paycheck does not equate the amount of personal sacrifice it takes to walk through the doors every day.

I’ve slowly been watching my non-paycheck income grow. I know that I have the capacity to earn for myself if I just trust that I am capable of it.

What sealed the deal is when I realized that the amount of money I earn, going into this place for 18-20 hours a week and subjecting myself to the corporate rules and regulations that make upper management sleep better at night, is equal to the amount of money I’d earn from selling four or five hoops.

Let me reiterate that: I can make the same amount of money doing something I enjoy, providing people with a product I am proud of and that brings joy to people’s lives, as I can doing something lifeless and soul-crushing.

And that’s exactly what I intend to do. Sure, there will be some struggling, cutting back, and close calls. But it’s in exchange for my freedom to follow my bliss unhindered. I just have to DO IT.

The money always comes. I’ve always trusted in this and it has never once failed me.

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