God bless the jobless!

Earlier this week I resigned from my (somewhat depressing) job as a call center agent. For some reason I still can’t seem to figure out, despite the sweet success I had already achieved, I couldn’t help but feel miserable and discontented and unhappy with all that I had done and all that I was doing. Without me really realizing it, I’d been working there for a year now (months longer than I thought and hoped I would) and I had come much, much further than anyone, including myself, believed I would. But, like most good things in this short, tragic life, it had to end. Especially since I was beginning to feel like there wasn’t any room left for me to grow in. And I was beginning to suffocate, cramped and confined in the sad small space that, for the longest time, was the entirety of my world. I was stagnating, not going anywhere, despite all the time that had passed and all the work I had done to get somewhere. I felt like I was a tiny seedling that had grown too large a plant for the small pot of earth I was buried in, and it was time for me to uproot myself from it so I could grow even more. Otherwise the pot would’ve cracked and split in half just trying to hold me in. It was time for me to go elsewhere and find better things to do with myself and my time, a place where the sun would shine warmly on me and breathe new life into my now monotonous existence.

The day after I resigned from my job I came in for my NCLEX review classes, in preparation for the daunting exams I’ll be taking later this year. It had started the day before, but I chose to miss the first day as I wanted to give myself some idle time to at least take in all these sudden changes and realign myself with the realities that I now moved in. I was so surprised at how quickly things changed, and I needed some time to regain the balance I lost in all that spinning around when I shook up my own humble existence.

When you think about it, there really are times when things just settle on their own, when you don’t really plan out everything but then it all seems to fall into place anyway. After abruptly quitting my job I didn’t know where to go. I didn’t have any plans at all. I just wanted to leave, to get away, and that was it. I didn’t know where I was going, or why, or how I was going to get there, but I went anyway. My emotional outbursts, as you can see, constantly put my dear life in grave danger. And yet, despite the directionless wandering about I was preparing myself for, the kind universe plucked me from the mental limbo of ambivalence I was floating in and put me on a path it had already paved for me, my very own yellow brick road. How remarkably thoughtful. I hadn’t even had the time yet to brood and rest and contemplate on things and maybe even regret my decision a bit and already I had something else to do sitting on my lap like a puppy wagging its tail and waiting to be embraced and toyed with. It was there, and I had no choice but to accept what I’d been given.

And so that is what I’ve been doing for the past three days or so, constantly rearranging my mental furniture to try and recover (with little success) lost pieces of the lessons I learned in nursing school years ago. They had been lying there, sleeping in undisturbed peace and stored in dust covered shoeboxes under some big bed in the dark shadows of my mind, while I was busy working for the past year. It is always a struggle looking for memories you aren’t even sure were there in the first place. As we go through answering the many drills and tests to refresh my memory, I feel like convulsing, falling on the floor and just dying. So much has slipped away from my mind, and it will take some time and a lot of work to regain some, if not all, of them. And I don’t even have that much time left. Oh well. I’ll keep trying anyway. It’s not like I have any other choice.

The other day I finished my review classes early, just before lunch, and my friends had their own plans in mind, so I ended up finishing the rest of my day alone. I went around downtown, withdrawing money from the bank, paying the phone and internet bills, window shopping, people watching, and helplessly buying myself a couple of new graphic tee shirts, all the while pulling up the green skinny jeans I was wearing to keep them from falling to the ground and humiliating myself. Apparently, I had lost some weight without me so much as skipping a meal or missing a single grain of rice, even. Stress does have some wonderful side-effects after all. In the end, after all that walking that almost certainly wrought permanent damage on the white and aqua and skull imprinted slip-on sneakers I had on, it was inevitable that I had to eat lunch, no matter how late. I went into a fast food restaurant, ordered a budget meal (I had spent a great deal of money on the clothes so I had to compromise) and sat on a small table for two in the corner.

Since I didn’t have anyone to talk to anyway, I would look around every now and then as I ate my lunch, staring at the people around me and the stories they carried around boldly painted on their faces. It was then that I noticed that right across my table was the restaurant’s kitchen, and every time the door opened and closed I saw a quick glimpse of what it was like on the other side of the counter. It was chaos. Every five minutes or so some poor employee would come rushing in and out with a bucket or a mop or some other cleaning tool, shuffling from one task to the next like little mice scampering and scurrying around to get something done before the precious opportunity disappears. They all seemed so harassed and agitated and panicked and fatigued. I know working and toiling like blessed beasts of burden will always be part of our lives (or most of it), but at that moment I was glad I didn’t have a job anymore. All that torture’s bound to kill you sooner or later.

I’m not entirely jobless, though. Reviewing for exams is like any other fulltime job. But it doesn’t pay. Which isn’t much different from the job that I just left anyway, so I don’t mind. I’m still getting used to learning things again and putting my geriatric brain cells to use after their untimely retirement, but I’m beginning to see all this is a blessing. I thought I’d end up regretting my decision to leave my job but no, I was spared from that terrible fate. There was something waiting for me, and I didn’t even see it coming. I’m glad I didn’t have too much time between leaving my job and starting my review classes. All that unused time gives you a chance to think about everything, and you end up conceiving and giving birth to your own inner demons, monsters that will inevitably awaken ugly insecurities and doubts and all the other things that can discourage your spirit. I’m so glad God blesses even the jobless.