Quitting your job is a huge pain in the ass.
I acknowledge that saying that is pretty selfish. Thousands of people have lost their jobs. They don't have the luxury of being able to choose whether or not they have income. Many people can't find jobs. Many people hate their jobs, but need to stay for the benefits, whatever those might be.
I'm not married. I don't have kids. I don't have a medical condition. I don't have a mortgage. I don't own a car, and so have no car payments, insurance, maintenance, gas, or parking to worry about. When I make a life-altering decision, my meager life is the only one directly affected.
On the other hand, I hear about people who up and quit their jobs to change careers or take an "Eat Pray Love"-style romp around the globe, and that is because these people have money saved up. For all the things I didn't have, I must include money. I didn't have savings. When I turned in my notice, I had about $300 in the bank and whatever my final paycheck was going to be on the way. I may not have a car or a mortgage, but I still have to make rent, and pay my cell phone and student loans, and feed my cat (not to mention myself). I had been fantasizing about leaving my job for over a year at that point, but I just couldn't save anything.
Firstly, quitting your job is a pain in the ass because you have to be prepared for it mentally even if you aren't financially. I can't tell you whether you should quit. Everyone's got their own personal tolerance for frustrations in the workplace, and everyone's got reasons to stay. I could lecture you about how, in my idealistic world with unicorns and cotton candy clouds, the reasons for staying at a job you hate are really just excuses, and you're the only thing holding yourself back, and blah blah blah. I can only tell you that, for me, when my reasons started sounding like excuses and then the excuses just sounded hollow, I had some serious thinking to do.
With no savings lined up, I knew I would have to find a way to earn money somehow, any way that I could. I've had friends looking for jobs in my field for months, even years, and I knew that it was unlikely I would find anything quickly. And ya'll, the thought of taking some part-time job or some minimum-wage job was so disheartening. It's like taking a step back when you've spent all this time and money on an education that is supposed to open doors for you. What will it look like on a resume if I go from a full-time gig to working the register at McDonald's? Will that adversely affect my job hunt in the future? Will I have to get two or more part-time jobs, and then never really have time to myself?
If the goal of this is to make myself happy, isn't all this uncertainty and possible sucky existence going to make me very UNhappy?
The answer is: of course. There's no golden solution in this situation. Ever. There's a whole lot of ifs, and a whole lot of maybes, and a whole lot of wondering how the hell you can make rent on minimum wage. Maybe you can't find a job. Maybe you can, but your boss is just as awful or whatever problems you had are still there. Maybe you have to wear a uniform. Maybe it's not at all what you expect.
You can't do this with expectations. You can only do it with hope. When I got to the point that I felt trapped, and I wasn't sleeping, and I wasn't myself, and I dreaded going to work every day, I looked my Job-Quittin' Fantasy in the eye and told it, "I can't realize you until I'm okay with the idea of waiting tables or working a cash register."
Mostly I was scared. I was terrified of what would become of me and how I would make a living, but when I thought about it, I knew I wasn't going to end up in a gutter, begging for change and scraps. Worst case scenario for me: I sell my belongings to buy a plane ticket move back across the country and live with my parents, but even that just seemed silly. Second-worst case was having to stay on friends' couches or move in to my boyfriend's, and as much as the thought of being a mooch wounded my pride, I knew I could count on these people to support me in a difficult time, and I knew that I would be okay. I wasn't going to die. I wasn't going to starve. I am a capable person, and I could make it work.
After coming to that glorious, empowering realization, I continued to be scared for a couple of weeks - mostly in the form of crying to my boyfriend and frantically applying to any job I found on Craigslist - because, hell, self-confidence alone sure don't pay the bills. But the goal is happiness, and I knew I had to take a chance if I was going to find it.
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