No matter what can be said about me quitting my full time job, I did it at the best time of year – Summer.
For the first time since the summer break between my first and second years of college, back in 2005, I can SEE summer. I can FEEL it, I can look out of my window and see the sunshine and go grab my suncream. I can walk through local parks and sit in pub beer gardens, instead of being in a windowless stockroom hoping beyond hope that the lovely weather last however many days until my next day off. Retail isn’t fond of allowing time off in summer, especially for those of us that are child free, and in my last company time off in July was flat out disallowed. I simply haven’t connected to summer in 11 years.
Of course, the worries haven’t gone away. The “how the fuck am I gonna pay bills” siren goes off sporadically. The “why am I sat here watching the geese swim by when I should be trawling the job sites” buzzes about like an annoying wasp. But one thing I am realising more and more every day since quitting my job is I am human, and I deserve to feel.