Column: From the Editors
That’s it. I quit. I’m moving on.
image credit: dan4th
Last week I quit my job. After four years in the one position, with no chance of promotion, I’d had it.
My long dreamt exit strategy – a whirlwind of double-finger salutes and profanities – was put aside for the dull, terrifying reality. There was no Kool-Aid administered, no hissy fit and no hidden-fish slow-burn vengeance, just a one-line resignation email and meetings with four separate bosses (how typically office life).
I’m sure this is a situation many have flirted with and of course I’m not the first person to quit a job, but heed this advice: this is neither a cautionary tale nor a success story.
I’m not offering a how-to guide on ‘escaping the cube’. I would never be so bold as to assert myself into such a place of generalised authority – the only coaching I subscribe to is on Friday Night Lights.
This is a form of catharsis, an honest diarising glue to hold my thoughts together because right now I am terrified. My exit may not have been as intense as this Hollywood fantasy fuel, but it was still dramatic for me.
I am by no means a trustafarian: I grew up single-parent poor which taught me a strong work ethic and fiscal frugality. I have not made this decision lightly and putting it in writing is one of the most confronting things I’ve done.
Four years ago, after finishing my Arts degree (Yes, one of them.), I joined the full-time workforce and had no idea the impact that a Monday to Friday, 9 to 5 office job would have on me. Clearly, Dolly’s classic sermon had fallen on deaf ears: I was enthusiastic and eager, and believed work-free weekends and a steady paycheck were the Holy Grail.
After six months of learning the ropes, I could climb, knot and braid them. Office life was not challenging enough, so I sought tasks beyond my role to garner professional satisfaction.
Externally, using my non-FTE hours productively, I’d be up at dawn writing or completing sub-editing jobs and took annual leave to volunteer at festivals or attend workshops.
Internally, I learnt all I could about the interesting elements my job had to offer and sought experience in other departments, hoping to move into a more demanding role. But this opportunity never surfaced and it eventually became evident that – due to a number of factors – it never would.
Now, this is the point in my story where you may think: ‘Woe is me, I have an arts admin job straight out of uni, there are worse things/jobs/situations.’ Correct – I didn’t have my head shoved up an elephant’s arse, but it wasn’t my plan to work with elephants or arseholes. I wasn’t destitute or terminally ill, but I also wasn’t happy.
Perhaps a little naïve, I went into my admin job believing you could work hard and, beyond menial financial remuneration, be rewarded for your time and effort. I realise the concept of reward is relative to individuals and situations, but personally a position that offered me zero professional rewards was not going to cut it. Professional was personal to me – this job helped me learn that.
Over the years, this stagnant environment became toxic; I realised I was lucky to be employed but time was slipping by. I was starting to believe I wasn’t worth any more than my lowest-rung standing. Realising you’re not only running a mind-numbing marathon on a hamster wheel, but you are a hamster, is hard to face.
The toxicity began to seep into my physical and mental wellbeing: broken up on the inside, I broke out on the outside. Anxiety riddled and brimming with self-loathing, I decided a jailbreak was necessary.
***
My decision was both rash and contemplated. After a final slice of humiliation pie was served with a dollop of curdled condescension, I decided to drop the microphone on my full time office life: *Van Schilt out*.
I’m not comfortable with publically setting goals beyond my aim to remember my sixteen-digit credit card number (now, a worrying success) and I’m risk adverse. So the risk of leaving a stable job and income, without anything solid to go to, is cause for much anxiety.
Unlike lyrics from a Sam Cooke song: ‘That’s it. I quit. I’m moving on.’, I’m not entirely bitter about my former office life. The four-year relationship I had with my workplace is one of the longest and most committed relationships I’ve had in my life. For four years I reported to the same corner of town – a corner that also served as my social stomping ground, a place to fall in love, a place to drink to excess, and, it turns out, a place to leave behind.
Leaving this job means I will also have to leave a fair portion of my self-doubt behind: I’m now writing personal essays even though the thought of being open makes me nervously sick. And I’m slowly convincing myself that not all personal affirmations will be written on mirrors (or spell redrum).
I will find temp jobs that allow me the flexibility to work on other creative endeavours. Admin may not be my career of choice, but I am pretty shit-hot at photocopying and filing to naming convention. Without bragging, I can definitely navigate a database or two.
But if I’m really being honest, I don’t know what I’m doing beyond hanging out with my freelance fear and self-loathing. Right now though, for each stomach churning spasm of anxiety is a moment of optimistic clarity: it was now or never. For every night of restless slumber is a real-life waking dream that, for money/food/rent, I must confront. For every internally embedded negative thought, my friends offer an external voice of support.
And for each hour of unemployment there are 60 minutes more to write.
Stephanie Van Schilt is Online Editorial Assistant for Kill Your Darlings (a job she hasn’t quit) and a freelance writer. She’s written for Junkee, Screen Machine and Cineaste and can be found on Twitter @steph_adele.
18 Responses to That’s it. I quit. I’m moving on.
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Kill Your Darlings, No. 13
April 2013 The Stella Prize
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10:22 am, March 13, 2013
I always wondered why offices were designed the way they were. In terms of aesthetics and occupant health, their design is visionless and cuts off productivity for sensitives like me.
In another way, office design is PERFECT. What better way to reflect the stultifying boredom of office work than ugly partitions and those stupid block things on the roof? What better lighting could you envisage than drear fluorescent?
I work from home to try to combat some of the issues I have with working in dastardly environments … and STILL I quit one of my clients at the end of last year. Working for them was like being a walking battery hen. Still, I was a more financial battery hen then than I am now.
Here’s to filling up those extra spaces with stuff that suits us BETTER! :)
10:44 am, March 13, 2013
Congratulations Stephanie, and good luck achieving your goals. I related to your predicament and am equally risk-averse (similar upbringing), but yet to do anything about it.
6:11 pm, March 13, 2013
Thanks, Daniel. You too!
12:26 pm, March 13, 2013
Good for you Stephanie. If you worked where I think you worked this is one of the most insightful essays I have read (it is anyway) and describes my experience there to a t.
12:43 pm, March 13, 2013
Congratulations on taking the leap Stephanie. I think bold moves are essential to making good things happen in your career, especially in the first ten years. The more leaps you take, the easier it gets. You figure out soon enough that you’re almost certain to land on your feet – maybe not where you expected, but not in the gutter either.
3:16 pm, March 13, 2013
Good luck to you Stephanie!
But why did you take your Arts degree into an admin role? Why not policy or communications or research or any one of the myriad areas that are more interesting than admin?
Long live the Arts Grad:
http://www.killyourdarlingsjournal.com/2012/05/the-write-skills/
6:35 pm, March 13, 2013
Thanks! I went into this arts admin role hoping that it could potentially lead to a position with another department (such as comms) but it didn’t. So be it. I’m moving on accordingly.
And, even though it was admin, it wasn’t an easy job to get in the first place!
Sadly, in my job hunting experience, I wasn’t able to secure a policy/comms/research role, even with the range of skills an Arts degree provides. It’d be great to see that change though. Meatier jobs for the arts-minded!
3:43 pm, March 13, 2013
Good on you Stephanie, that’s great! I worked through a temp agency for years after getting out of a terrible job that destroyed my soul.
Temp work was great for me, it let me just be a worker and not have to stress too much about workplace politics or where my job is heading. I liked it a lot.
Good luck to you with the future, I look forward to reading more from you here.
6:36 pm, March 13, 2013
Thanks, Jess! I appreciate the encouragement!
8:47 pm, March 13, 2013
Good decision….I left a job that was taking over my life and have never looked back. I left with a (very) rough plan of what I might do and what do you know, it all worked out!!
10:03 pm, March 13, 2013
You’re so brave! I quit my last job just so that I could begin studying an Arts degree, and had all the fun of listening to hundreds of people who knew so much better than me telling me that I was making a bad decision. Don’t listen to them! People are afraid of taking the steps to do what makes them happy. And you’re not. Hold on to that! Thank you for writing this too – it made me feel like I’m not alone in my decisions.
8:41 am, March 14, 2013
You’re very welcome. Thank you for making me feel better about expressing my stress/hope publicly! Best of luck with your Arts adventures.
12:40 am, March 14, 2013
Congratulations… It was lovely to meet you at the online writing gig. Had I worked out your responsibility then, I would have complimented you on the many references to Friday Night Lights that now pop up around here. It’s a beautiful thing. Clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose – I hope this applies to you in your new adventures.
8:44 am, March 14, 2013
This may just be the best feedback/encouragement I’ve received. THANK YOU! (I could talk about Tim Riggins or Tami Taylor’s hair for the rest of my days!)
7:38 pm, March 14, 2013
No worries.. Always keen to hear about Dillon. You could be sitting on a gold mine if you just happen to get Friday Night Lights’ final episode shown here. In full. I’d settle for a DVD. (It has been a year or more and it still angers me that Eric wasn’t shown following Tami out of the restaurant. Seriously. Television. Come on.)
2:22 pm, March 15, 2013
Arts + Admin = could be a winner Stephanie
http://jobs.australiacouncil.gov.au/job-details/query/administration-officer-arts-development-directorate-arts-development-division/in/sydney/5261083/
11:03 am, March 17, 2013
I’m very proud of you Steph, your final sentence sums it up brilliantly. x
11:17 am, March 19, 2013
What a fantastic article! Beautifully articulated and painfully honest. I’m sure you’ll be giving a lot of hope to other people who’ve experienced the same thing. Good luck!