Bring on the Balloons & Streamers!

8:15 PM

"Party Time" by Nana B Agyei / CC by 2.0 

Put on your blogging pants. It’s time to party!

It’s official. I quit my job. Gave notice, turned in my keys. I am out!

Recent Backstory: 
For the last 3 years I sweat retail. I played personal shopper, body positive enthusiast, and confidant. I managed a team of bold, determined personalities. I trained associates on our product, sales techniques, and merchandising. By golly, I taught customers the benefits of crotch gussets.

It was incredibly inspiring and exhausting. Pacifying customers, mediating disagreements… I learned more about people from this job than anything else I’ve ever done. I can make an irate old lady stop yelling and apologize without uttering a word. I can detect and deter shoplifters with ease. Most importantly, I have honed my ability to read people. I know what service you need based on your expression, posture, and gait.

But the stress of managing a store 40 hrs/wk and hustling 30 hrs/wk on the side gets to you. A few weeks back after working six days in a row with shifts at 8am, 8pm, and ever time in-between, I wrote in my journal:

It’s probably just exhaustion. I feel it. My shoulders can hardly keep me upright. But wet eyes are not always from a lack of sleep. Although, a lack of regular sleep over the past 3 years could probably accounted for it.

It’s not that I hate my job really. I just know it’s not the right fit for me. Irregular hours are not my thing. I need a sense of routine. Something to cling to when the going get rough.

It’s funny to hear myself say that. Considering just a few years ago I was all for ANYTHING to quit my dead end job. Indeed, I do feel like I am working harder and doing more interesting work now than before. But the job just isn’t rewarding anymore, and the pay isn’t good enough for the challenge.

I was hoping to hold out ‘til the end of the month of May or the like. Just long enough to get a raise. But that’s not due until July.

It feels like the ground quakes beneath me. This uncertainty is unsettling. My stomach churns unless I can successfully distract myself.

It's over. I can hardly believe it. My brain is still charged up and waiting for the next long shift. I'm into the freelance world 100% now. It's time to kick some ass.

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