In case you haven't already heard or otherwise caught on, I quit my job this week. Yessiree, turned in my letter of resignation on Monday. After four years with the same company, and for the most part the same people, a move this big is both exhilirating and ...well, scary.
I have been working with a cast of characters that are beyond irreplacable.
But it's time to go.
Gotta gotta be down because I want it all.
My mom, once again misunderstanding my very nature, asked why I'm not "jumping up and down". Though I hadn't thought it until I said it, I told her it's because I feel like I sold out. She said "'Sold out?' Does that mean 'grown up'"? and I rolled my eyes as I began to explain the depths of yet another colloquialism to her. About how I didn't want to commute downtown with the rest of the racing rats and how my feet were clearly not intended for heels. I was taking the money and running. Running in heels.
It was an hour later, after I had made and put away dinner, that I was washing my face, looked up into the mirror, and realized she was right.