I’m Asari (Episode 39): Quit Your Job and Get an Intervention

“So, what are you going to do next?” my mother was furious that I quit my “good” job and trying to be supportive of me at the same time. “I don’t know yet. I am still trying to figure things out” she laughed “so you resigned from your job with no plans? No plan B?” it was not funny but all I could do was to watch her freak out on my behalf.

I didn’t want to tell her that I wanted to pursue a career as a television personality; I mean she already knows that I have some flare for entertainment but she doesn’t know how serious it is. “Mummy, don’t worry everything will work out in the end” I said as if she was the one who quit her job. “Better get your act together and fast. You are twenty seven years old. You are not a baby anymore” she declared and left my room.

She was right, I am not a baby anymore; in fact my birthday was coming up, twenty seven was fast approaching and even though I quit my job on a whim. I believe my action was a result from the thoughts of time passing and me not achieving the goals I set for myself years ago.

I know that one more year in that bank job would mean that I will never fully pursue my dreams because I will go from being hopeful to being fearful. Fearful of uncertainty, fearful of losing a consistent pay check and that fear would have kept me in that job for the next fifteen years. There was a knock on my door. It was my father; my parents were taking turns to give me an intervention.

I know the way they think and I’m sure they decided to come to talk to me one by one instead of together so that I wouldn’t feel ambushed; and I really appreciated that but I was tired of the ‘what is your next plan’ questions. To my pleasant surprise, my father didn’t ask or say much; he only asked why I quit my job and I told him then he was like “whatever you do with your life, I know it will be great. I am proud of you… for standing up for yourself” those words brought tears to my eyes but I did my best to hold them back.

 My father was proud of me, I mean I have heard those words from his mouth before but it never meant as much as it meant to me in that moment. He wished me well in whatever I wanted to do with my life next, then left my room in time for me to shed a few tears. I wasn’t sad or anything, my father telling me that he was proud of me made me really emotional and I’m sure it was because I didn’t see it coming.

I sat there thinking, thinking about the job I had quit and how I was the new topic of office gossip; a former colleague told me how people exchanged balls with my name “we now say grow a pair of Asaris” he explained “why would you guys equate me with balls” I asked through a laugh “because you told the MD to take several seats”.

I guess I did tell the MD to take several seats; I said some pretty ballzy things in that email “so what next?” the question showed up again “I don’t know. One day at a time” I replied. What was I going to tell an office gossip? That I planned to follow my dream to become a television personality? Nah. Mum’s the word.

Now the real work begins, this is the only opportunity I have to show myself that I made a good decision by quitting that job. Hmmmm… from one hustle to the other. This life at times feels like a scam.