The story of quitting
Today I went to work. At lunch, I went out driving to think about whether I should quit my job. The civic and I buzzed along Grand River to Sunfield Highway, toward Lyons. 96 cuts through the fields around Portland at several different angles, so it can feel like you are driving in circles as you keep passing under 96. I decided to make straight west, listening to a Terri Gross interview with Eric Clapton. She asked what he thought, in retrospect. of the Cream concerts at which the combined intoxication of the audience and the band led to "self-indulgent" solos and jamming. Was it fun, or alienating? "I can't pretend it was anything but...fantastic," he said.
One strike against my job. We decided to stop in a little dirt inlet to a vast field of sprouting grass fringed with trees. Very beautiful to look at, great place to eat lunch. Let's just turn the car around first--uht---uht!---the car is totally stuck. Civics are not meant for three inches of slimy defrosted mud. I revved the engine up to smoking only once, and then grabbed my AAA card and headed for the nearest farmhouse, veering at the last minute for a restaurant on the corner of M-66 and Grand River. As I waited for the tow-truck I smiled, in the light rain at the cars whooshing by. There was a green stone in the grass near the abandoned Amoco station hut. I picked it up and rubbed it between my fingers.
Two strikes against work. Nothing's holding me here...it's time to let go. So I went back, finished the day, and quit my job. Two weeks notice, yes, but the cut has been made. I will take the walks I have envisioned and go riding on my bike as the neighborhood eases into spring. I will start ESL again and maybe sell my extra clothes. Faith has this weird self-fulfilling quality ... it wraps itself around words you've heard, images you've seen, fleeting thoughts you've had repeatedly -- today I was remembering Heather's good-bye blessing - I hope that you roam free, and when you have finished with one thing, you move wholeheartedly into the next!
One strike against my job. We decided to stop in a little dirt inlet to a vast field of sprouting grass fringed with trees. Very beautiful to look at, great place to eat lunch. Let's just turn the car around first--uht---uht!---the car is totally stuck. Civics are not meant for three inches of slimy defrosted mud. I revved the engine up to smoking only once, and then grabbed my AAA card and headed for the nearest farmhouse, veering at the last minute for a restaurant on the corner of M-66 and Grand River. As I waited for the tow-truck I smiled, in the light rain at the cars whooshing by. There was a green stone in the grass near the abandoned Amoco station hut. I picked it up and rubbed it between my fingers.
Two strikes against work. Nothing's holding me here...it's time to let go. So I went back, finished the day, and quit my job. Two weeks notice, yes, but the cut has been made. I will take the walks I have envisioned and go riding on my bike as the neighborhood eases into spring. I will start ESL again and maybe sell my extra clothes. Faith has this weird self-fulfilling quality ... it wraps itself around words you've heard, images you've seen, fleeting thoughts you've had repeatedly -- today I was remembering Heather's good-bye blessing - I hope that you roam free, and when you have finished with one thing, you move wholeheartedly into the next!