I Quit

For approximately the past 21 months I've had the pleasure of working at [an unnamed search engine]. I thoroughly enjoyed my role there, so it was very difficult to leave my position this past Friday.

Why did I leave?

Because, for some delightfully frustrating reason, I have an itch to pursue a career in journalism that I want to scratch. So, I will be attending [an unnamed graduate school] this coming fall to obtain a Master of Science in Journalism.

I don't particularly enjoy the spot I'm in. To be very honest, I don't think I'll ever find another job that is as accommodating, relaxing, and peaceful as the one I just left. The main thing I'm trying to aim for is a more fulfilling career path through the lens of journalism.

So, Friday was a sad day. I have never had to leave a job that I loved, so it was a strange feeling. It's akin to the feeling of meeting a pretty girl during the summer, only to find that sometime in late August you both have to part ways and head back to your separate realities at your respective schools and homes. I hope that's an allusion that some of you will get.

Leaving my job does make it easier to look forward to graduate school. Once one bridge is burned, the other one begins to look mighty appealing. But for the next few weeks I'll be in a strange limbo, and I'm not looking forward to it.

Alas, my stay at [unnamed search engine] is over, and on Monday I will not be heading into the office to sit at my desk. I am no longer employed there; I am not their employee anymore, and they are no longer my employer. Our relationship is now kaput.

But what if, knowingly or unknowingly, I actually head back to the office on Monday morning and sit at my desk? My co-workers would probably look at me funny and ask me why the heck I was there, and I'd feel and look like a certified schmuck.

What shall we say then? Are we to continue in sin that grace may abound? By no means! How can we who died to sin still live in it?
Romans 6:1, 2 (ESV)

I've essentially died to my job. My laptop and corporate key card have been returned, my last paycheck was handed to me, and soon my e-mail account, directory listing, and insurance benefits will be done away with. I'm dead to [unnamed search engine].

If I did return on Monday, or any day after that, I'd be a fool.

Yet I find myself continually returning to the offices of sin, though I've already given them a firm notice of my permanent departure. I told them that I quit, for good, that I am moving on to greener, higher ground, but I embarrass myself over and over again by walking back to that same damned desk. Sometimes I know what I'm doing, while other times I find myself sleepwalking there, as if I'm still profoundly connected with my former station.

So, as I wait upon that next phase to come, it appears that I will be repeating the words "I quit" over and over again until that beautiful day when they will finally and truly be fulfilled.

(The photo above has nothing to do with this post. It was just a scene I saw in my backyard today that gave me great joy. I wanted to share it with you.)

Pencil Javelin

NBC should pay me...

Michael Scott on Volleyball

Couldn't have said it any better myself.

Michael Phelps Makes Me Phear the Phuture

I like the Olympics. Not a surprising or unique statement, I know, but I do. I love watching these "humans" (they're more like machines) compete and win in these events played at the highest possible level. It does a lot of things to me. The Olympics...

...inspire me,
...entertain me,
...challenge me,
...give me joy,
...and strike deep fear into me.

I guess the last one needs an explanation.

When I watch Michael "8" Phelps, for example, I not only see someone who has mastered a sport and who has gone great lengths to mold his body and mind to succeed and destroy anyone in his path, but I also see someone who has found exactly what he was made for.

I think that in a way, all humans are like shaped blocks. We're all different shapes, so we all fit different holes. My biggest fear in life is never finding what I was made for, never finding where I fit.

I see all these athletes performing and succeeding at the premier stage of their sports and a part of me gets jealous, and then that same part becomes afraid.

Some of these athletes were born with the precise blend of physical and mental traits, not to mention parental circumstances, to enable them to find their fit. Others had to hack away at themselves, and forcibly mold their bodies and minds in order to fit into their spots so well. Either way, they've managed to find their fit in life.

When I look back at my life it's hard to point out many times (maybe even any times) when I've lunged headlong into trying to find where I really fit. I've never been quite deliberate about it. But this coming fall, I hope to try it out.

I just really, really hope that I'll find what I was made to do.

Slapface