I quit my job last month. After nearly two-and-a-half years, I finally took the plunge and handed in my resignation letter. Aside from a strange calmness I felt a slight thrill, and most of all an immense sense of relief. That was when I knew I made the right decision in leaving. I don’t miss competing with my colleagues for news to write, scouring the ends of the web for trends to report, trying to make stories go viral, obsessing over likes, clicks and views, and getting stressed when I fail to hit my targets. Doing that five days a week was exhausting and I was jaded and downtrodden when I left. But with all the bad news about the weak economy, a part of me can’t help thinking I should have stuck it out for a few more months. It’s been three weeks since I resigned and I’m still browsing job ads and sending out résumés. I have nothing concrete lined up yet. I can feel that familiar dread in the pit of my stomach starting up and I’m doing my best not to let it overcome me.
Now that I have all this free time, I’ve been working on my personal writing and pursuing interests I didn’t have time for, like photography and catching up on movies. I finally got around to baking chocolate chip cookies in a mug and they were decent. Not the most delicious ones I’ve had, but edible and easy enough to make that I can whip them up whenever I crave something sweet. My new article for Bandwagon was published yesterday, on Valentine’s Day. It might be the month of love, but for many people it’s a reminder that they have no one by their side. I wrote this for the perennially single, unlucky in love and broken-hearted, but I might as well have written it for myself…