It’s been 48 hours.
48 hours since I’ve returned and it isn’t a happy reunion.
In the past 48 hours, I’ve had a lot of time – not only to myself but also to visiting friends. Yes – seeing my friends who’s visiting me was great, but after we parted ways, I realized how I was only having fun because my attention was them, and not what was around me.
Again, I don’t care for my own city.
I was due for work – walking out the door, and then realizing I was about to waste an entire day doing nothing I wanted was a complete waste of time.
Sure, I was going to be paid, but that’s not good enough anymore.
I ended up turning back and heading straight home and writing that letter of resignation that contained only 2 lines – Hi, please consider this short email a letter of formal resignation. I quit.
Now that’s done, I’m looking at the countdown on my phone.
87 days until I’m out of here again.
87 days to make it count.
I know full well of what’s at stake.
But I’m not afraid anymore, like I was used to.
If I was to think about this clearly, I was only scared and clinging onto that job I should’ve given up a long time ago because I didn’t want to go deal with the pandora box I’m about to open.
Having a “job” was the safe option, but that option will lead me to nowhere.
I know that.
It is time for a new and exhilarating adventure.
A different kind of thrill.