Woah. I look back at a previous post of not-so-long ago and see an entirely different person, one who was unhappy at work, and in spending his life at work, was unhappy with life.
To anyone sitting at a desk surrounded by vainglorious arsehats who do nothing but squint shortsightedly at their reflected self-importance; to anyone languishing for hours in boredom or suffering in stress while the world passes by: get out now. Quit your job and start fresh. Hand in your resignation and do something absurd. Make a difference, if you feel like it. You will thank yourself long after you close your bank account.
Don’t worry – no one will remember what you did when it’s too late. They will remember how you did it, and why.
Why does this speak to me in so many ways?
Having spent no more than 18 continuous months at any one job I can assure you this is my mantra all over.
Quitting the Dickensian Acid Mines (Op Cit 2007) of Mac Bank and going on a global tour of outrage and depravity was my finest hour! Not to mention the subsequent move to London and with it, celebrating my ever receding youth with disgustingly hilarious weekends in Europe.
Hi Five!