I did it. I quit my job. I quit because it was making me miserable and, honestly, a little resentful. I was afraid to leave because it was secure, cozy, and comfortable. Because the health insurance was amazing. Because I was starting to believe I wasn't smart enough or good enough to do anything else. I was afraid because I actually really like the people I work with and will miss seeing them everyday. And because I doubt, if I ever work for anybody other than myself ever again, that I will find a more supportive, reasonable, and hilarious boss.
I quit because I want to learn more and grow more and that job was getting me nowhere. I quit because the reasons to stay were no longer good reasons. Because the reasons to leave made me excited, if not afraid and extremely uncomfortable.
I quit because I want to do something I care about. I want to teach more yoga, write, learn, study Ayurvedic medicine, and use more of my brain. I want to be outside more. I want to force myself to be resourceful and creative. To be scrappy. I want to have time to write music again - a part of me I have almost forgotten about. I quit because if I'm going to be poor I might as well be doing something I like more.
I also quit because I can. Because I don't have children or a mortgage. Because my rent is cheap and my expenses minimal. Because I have a supportive partner and a mom who would let me move home if I fucked up too bad. Because I am young, and white, and pretty, and will probably be just fine even under the worst circumstances.
I quit because of all the stupid cliches, as much as it pains me to write them out here. I quit because life is too short and because you should follow your dreams and because change is good even though it totally sucks and makes you want to barf.
I quit because I want something different and that requires changing my situation.
I'm a quitter. Deal with it. Boom.