I’ve been counting the days since I quit. Time seemed to fly by in a blur. A blur of dates, bottles of wine, interviews, hangovers, the like. I cataloged each day as best I could. I avoided the sads and kept the glads. I reconnected with old friends and made a sad attempt to make new ones. By attempt I mean I randomly asked the girl in the deli department at Harris Teeter to hang out with me and I downloaded the Tinder app. Both were major fails. I still remembered to stay in good spirit. I like the new found freedom, sleeping in, and taking my time to decide what to wear each day. I started to make my bed every day. I heard on a podcast about Happiness by Gretchin Rubin that it made you happier. I must agree. I found time to reinvest in reading more. I set goals. I had a schedule. I organized and cleaned in preparation of going back to work. My mom called me and rarely reached me. She said she heard from me more when I was working a full time job. I told her looking for a job IS a full time job. She hadn’t had to do that in so long, how could she relate? I didn’t complain. I liked my life. I enjoyed every minute of it. I worried less without a job than when I had one. Ironic, right? I rolled with it.
My very first interview was a bit scary. The second one got better. By the third interview, I was a pro. My mom asked me if I simply enjoyed going on interviews for the heck of it or if I was really considering the jobs that I was applying for. It was a mix of both. Interviewing empowered me. It helped me build confidence and stamina. I got turned down a few times but that didn’t make or break me. I had a system. I applied for jobs in a tier system. There were 3 tiers: jobs that I was not qualified for and out my league, jobs that I was over qualified for and under my league and jobs that I was equally qualified for and within my league. I got a few interviews out of each pool. My problem was that I simply just did not want to accept any job offer. I wanted to hunt for that one particular job but I couldn’t figure out what job I should have been looking for. I decided to stick with accounting. I am an avid reader so of course writing and editing jobs were pulling at my heart strings but I did not have the education nor the experience to do so. Eh, one does not have to have a degree to put words on paper so I wrote. Even if it was just to clear my own head. I wrote and wrote and wrote. To no particular audience, on no particular subject. I wrote my heart out. I never ventured out without pen and paper. Technology was cool and all but I couldn’t count on my iPhone to not die on me. On the bus, in the Ubber car, at the doctor’s office, wherever I was, whatever I felt. It was soothing. A release. There was no maximum or minimum of words to achieve. It was simple, no pressure. In a journal, no one was counting.