In This Moment In Time

It has finally come; I am leaving my place of work. For the sake of getting unemployment, I am voluntarily getting fired. If that even makes sense to you at all.

Although I have partially enjoyed spending my time working there, I have had this feeling of being stuck while being there. Not because I didn’t have some sort of outlet, but because it had become all too consuming. I was taking work home with me. I was letting customers who came in all sour (and I was not prior to engaging with them) make me sour.

The establishment I worked for also made it very known that they didn’t see me as someone who would be able to move up, even though the district manager, towards the end, said I would have made a great manager. Thanks for appreciating me as I am making my way out.

I know I wasn’t giving that company my all to make it be known that I would have liked to move up, but it would have been nice being considered for such a position. Especially with how consistent I was, and how my knowledge made it to where I worked eons better than most. Not saying I am better than anyone, but… I digress.

It feels weird knowing I won’t work there anymore, and even weirder because I leave for a vacation on my last day of work. It’s new beginnings all around. Needless to say, I am scared of having to start somewhere else. Mostly because I have yet to establish other lines of work. I know I can make it work—I have gotten myself where I needed to be thus far.

I just feel so odd right now. I could do whatever I want to do with my life. I am no longer confined to the job I once knew.

Would like to add, I have been here for 3 years. This is the longest I have worked anywhere. I know some of you reading this will be like, “Okay? I’ve been at my job for 10-plus?” And to that, I would say, “Okay? And?” But it feels like a weird breakup. Mostly because my coworkers are super chill, and the job in itself was super chill.

The more I type here, the more it feels like I’m sucking this job’s dick, but it was seriously so cool. I just wish I had used my time better while I was there. So much down time.

Goodness gracious!

I hate thinking about the what-ifs.

Who cares.

All I have is the now, and that should be enough.

Being alive is so awesome. I just haven’t been doing all the work I need to figure out what my purpose on this Earth is.

All I can think about is how much more I could be doing with my time. Or all the things I could do. And my brain wants to do everything at once, and that is just not feasible. I need to take things bit by bit. I feel like my consumeristic characteristic lashes out when I want to create.

I get distracted so often that I forget that I have a purpose for being alive. Being alive on its own is my purpose, but in this point in time with the world, I want to know what it means to be myself. I am not my job. I am not my name. I just am. But who the fuck is that?

Like who even am I? What am I doing here? Why am I here? I am going to die someday. Do I even matter?

Is this what existentialism feels like? Being human is so profound, and it’s weird to think that some of us limit ourselves to our jobs. Like, the whole half portion of this was me talking about how sappy it is leaving my job.

I felt like my job was a big portion of my identity, and it’s as though me leaving is having to leave some kind of piece of myself. But I am not my job. I am myself.

Why don’t we talk about this more? Unless people already have and I am somehow behind.

Let us not limit ourselves to our jobs, and enjoy life as it comes. I am about to take a trip to Washington for two weeks, and that is part of what life is all about.

Seeing the world. Taking it as it comes. Or taking it for a ride. Letting it move you.

I love you all. Thank you for being here.