Blog, today was the last Monday at my job. I just did some simple math based on there being 52 weeks in a year and also taking holidays and random days off into consideration. Including an 8 month hiatus that took place back in 2008, I came to the rough estimate that today was my 220th Monday at my job. I have woken up after 220 Sundays. I have dragged myself out of various beds to various busses and cars that have brought me downtown to start the week 220 times. I have gone to the elevator lobby and waited for the familiar ding to tell me that it was time to climb into a tiny box with other people 220 times... no wait. That would be more like 1,100 times (a conservative estimate too) since I do that every day. My God. What have I done?
It's easy to allow the mundane repetition of coming to work, hitting the elevator call button, and making my way down the same hallway of cubes 220 times over the past 5 1/2 years to take over everything I've experienced at my job. It's been an amazing job. It's one that allowed me to leave for stupid reasons only to let me come back. It's a place I met a guy who gave me one of the most formative relationships I've had. It's a place where I've met some of my best friends. It's a place that has allowed me to grow and cultivate a set of skills I never thought I'd have. I seemed to have this uncanny ability to predict vague details of what would happen to me right before I started working at Capella (as far as crisis go). However, little did I know that I'd walk away from the place with a newfound motivation to pursue what I really love and not care so much about money (though that's easy to say when you're making it). I also never thought I'd actually be the type of person to be brave enough to challenge people who are bitchy and stupid. We live, we learn I guess.
Looking back at those old Livejournal entries has allowed me to realize two things: 1) I used to be a lot funnier than I am now (probably because I was a lot dumber) and 2) My priorities were completely superficial and monetary. It makes sense. Those priorities have every chance of coming back in the near future when I come back from tour with no job. But for now I'm going to do my best to live in the present and begin my 220th Tuesday knowing that the dull and repetitive Tuesdays that have come before it haven't always been so dull and repetitive. They've been exciting. They've been sad. They've been collecting for the past 5 1/2 years into this crazy growth that I'm only recognizing now. Retrospect is freaking my brain out right now. And it's telling me that leaving is totally the right thing to do.
Oh and for the record, this time I'm leaving for something infinitely cooler than working at a lame insurance underwriting association as a trampled-upon receptionist.
Despite all of this, I kind of never want to do the same thing 220 Mondays in a row again. I can't say that won't happen, but here's to hoping.
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