These last few weeks have been eventful, confusing, and a bit ironic. They have made me second guess the beliefs I've always held about the way life unfolds. Maybe life is simply made up of choices and coincidences, and some of them only seem serendipitous. Maybe there's no such thing as knowing something will turn out okay before it's turned out any type of way at all.
I say all of this because a few weeks ago, I put in my resignation notice at a job that wasn't making me happy anymore. This was a huge decision and a huge risk for me. I had to talk myself into it after weeks of becoming progressively angrier, stressed, and so depleted I would lie in bed and stare at the wall or the ceiling for over an hour before getting up every morning. My life felt like a lie. I felt like I was running on a hamster wheel without actually getting anywhere, my only reward being the money I was making. I felt like a cog in the machine of society, working full-time at a job I never intended to work full-time.
It sounds dramatic, and maybe it is. But I've been different from everybody else and a rebel to society my whole life. I was letting life happen to me instead of making life happen. And due to the familiarity with my job and my ability to comfortably pay the bills, I had no real motivation to leave.
So I quit. With no plan B and only a faint idea of what I was doing, I worked out a two weeks notice and came home from work on my last day with the obvious assumption that I wouldn't go back. But I kept my work clothes and accessories within reach, just in case. Because as hard as I tried to fight it, I had my doubts and my fears. These were worsened by people telling me I made a mistake. By spending almost $4000 on my first vehicle three days after leaving my job. By my mom telling me and urging me to go back to work, to make money, to do the right thing, to build a good life, to not struggle like she did. And then Friday morning, I received a call from my district manager asking me to come back. They needed me. They missed me. They wanted to know what they could do to help me have a better, less stressful experience working for them. And as I stood there in my underwear with no job and more than half the money I'd saved up no longer in my account, how could I say no?
So here I am, trying to enjoy my last few days off and accomplish what I can before returning to the very place that made me realize I wanted more out of life. I sound bitter and whiny about it, but I'm not. I didn't write this post so I could whine and complain. I do need the money. I don't have to start over or train or be given hours I don't want. My managers are letting me come back, no questions asked, and pick up right where I left off. And they are willing to meet me halfway by letting me work 3 days instead of 5 until I find another job. That gives me 4 free days to write, job hunt, and do what I want to do. So it's a good deal, and I'm thankful for it. I just wish it didn't feel like such a step back after all the thought, planning and faith I put into leaving in the first place.
But who knows? Maybe it's not a step back, but simply an indicator that my shoes aren't ready for the next step forward. Maybe my old job isn't done with me yet. Maybe I needed to step away for a couple of weeks and discover who I am when I'm not a waitress. Maybe going back to work part-time will be an extremely positive thing and just what I need. Maybe the universe is simply trying to tell me that 5 days was too much, but 3 days is just right.
I don't know. But I will say that my old job has given me a lot, including my future husband. And I refuse to even consider that he was just a coincidence. So maybe I have more to gain. And a whole lot more to learn.
Time will tell.