I'm a writer. I'm 23-years-old. Female. Around two years ago I graduated college with a BA in English and $22,000 worth of debt. I work at a coffee shop in a mid-sized (50,000-80,000 people) city. I live with my parents.
I am not happy.
Yesterday, I was lying awake at 3:00 am paralyzed with guilt and anxiety from my stagnant life.
Today, I took the plunge and gave notice at my job. My last day is on April 20th. By then, I have three objectives.
- I will have a new job.
- I will move out of my parents house.
- I will write at least 100 words a day, every day.
This may sound laughably easy or ridiculously impossible to you. I can't tell. For me, it's big. I'm a planner and a worrier. I'm also a procrastinator and a delayer and a lot of other things that aren't so helpful career-wise, but I'm a hard worker and the one thing I've never been is a quitter. Today, I quit, and it was a big deal.
This is me trying to make a noticeable, quantifiable change in my life by a deadline. For artistic reasons (and less artistic, avoiding libel reasons) I won't be giving you my name, city, state, or place of employment. Think of me like the narrator from Fight Club. Except, instead of Tyler Durden showing up, the narrator quits his job and tries to find meaning in his existence through positive, constructive means. So nothing like Fight Club at all, but just go with it. I'm tired, man. I just quit my job.
This is the story of the moment my life started to get better.
Hopefully.
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