I Did it. I Finally Quit.
I arrived back in Perth and the trip made me realise how much I wanted to move to a bigger city. I continued working at my retail job and as my hate for it increased, my care for it decreased. Then one day, my brother reminded me that I had to shoot a wedding with him and I realised it was on the same day I had a shift at work. I couldn’t find a cover for my shift and I wasn’t allowed to take it off. So, like any rational person would do—I quit.
I spent a total of one night thinking if I should quit then the next day I went to lunch with Lien. Sitting by the window at Veggie Mama, we ate our vegan meals and I finally said “Fuck it” and wrote the resignation email. I pressed send and immediately started freaking out because I had finally done it after such a long time of being miserable. We hopped in my car, blasted The Wombats and I was screaming of bliss and relief. The weight of the world had left my shoulders and I was free. Free from block out periods. Free from fixing discrepancies. Free from folding and re-folding the same pile of clothes. Free to work on my passions and creativity. Free to travel whenever I wanted to. Free and happy. So free, in fact, that I decided it was time I take a little trip for myself and booked a flight to Bali.
I sat on the beach with the cold sand underneath my goosebumped skin and looked up to the Super Moon, feeling a new chapter in my life coming. The unknown was ahead of me but I was excited and ready.
To be continued . . .