I think it’ll be fine

This clip is from Muppet Treasure Island (amazing). Even if you’re not really into the muppets (WHO ARE YOU?) I think within the first 10 seconds you’ll realize this is totally worth your time:

Right?? Gorgeous. Thought provoking. I see it as a continuation of the “quitting” thought from yesterday. Jim is such a kindred spirit.

Bonus clip after the jump!

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When I tell strangers about my upcoming plans, I’ve noticed that some of them assume I’m some spontaneous free spirit, like one of those nutty-but-wise female characters from movies like Forces of Nature or Sweet November. I totally understand, I mean it does sound cool in that “you’re wild and crazy” way. Quitting your job and moving to the opposite coast on a whim! Nutty! I wish I was that awesome, but the truth is this decision was totally not off-the-cuff. It seems like no one ever really quits anything completely off-the-cuff, right?

Or maybe I don’t know. People have a lot of different opinions on quitting: quitters are bad, quitters are brave, quitters are emotionally or physically lazy, quitters will die alone. Based on its recent article about my generation’s tepid relationship with employment, The New York Times seems to think that quitters are mostly just young and dumb. I would take offense, but I think twentysomethings have been getting accused of laziness and unrealistic expectations for several decades now.

My friend Mariko sent me a really great episode of This American Life about Quitting. It opens with an interview with Evan Harris, who started a zine (yay 90s!) with her friend Shelley Ross called Quitter Quarterly. Evan has a LOT to say about quitting (she filled a zine for two years and wrote two books), including an awesome outline of “The Anatomy of a Quit”:

1. The Quitter thinks about it.
2. The Quitter thinks about it some more.
3. The Quitter quits.
4. Post-quitting stuff.

I love the accurate vagueness of “post-quitting stuff.” And quitting anything totally does require at least two phases of “thinking about it.” For example, I’ve been talking about leaving New York since November 2006, and I’d been talking about leaving my job since… earlier than that.

It’s that transition to phase three that’s definitely the toughest. How do you know when you’re just fantasizing vs. when you really neeeeeed to make a change?

Seth Godin, a marketing/business guru of sorts who has a pretty popular blog, recently wrote a book called The Dip that aims to address this question. His basic argument is that any career/life situation at some point hits a weeding-out point, or a “dip,” where if you just stick with it, then when you come out on the other side you’ll have way fewer competitors and you’ll be happy and in great shape. Of course, that means you have to stick with it even when it sucks, but you should only do it if it sucks in the right way. He explains it pretty well in this interview with BusinessWeek:

When to Quit

I find him pretty annoying, and I have some major issues with his education reform suggestions, but I think he brings up a really great point that quitting something FORCES you to build something new. Maybe the panic of completely and permanently tearing something out of your life that you put work into and got used to can push your brain into brand new thought areas. Sounds pretty painful to me.

So finally: pondering a major change? Below are some handy internet guides that the internet is offering up to help you out:

Should I Quit My Job (For me, the consensus was: yes, I probably should. Check.)
The Relationship Assessment Test (They suggest a former relationship of mine might’ve had more of a chance if we had “improved how we connect, particularly our level of problem-solving.” Yeah… we decided to go for the quit, thanks.)
What’s Your Signature City (I got Seattle - SCORE.)

Big changes are great (mostly scary), but I realize I’m also a big believer in small-stakes quitting. For example, in college I quit recycling after deciding that I didn’t believe in it, and in New York I quit worrying about germs. I think maybe it’s not about destroying everything important in your life, but more just making conscious choices?

April 14, 2006

“So I don’t have a lot of time this afternoon, but Julia let me know that you might be interested in working with us. What about fashion interests you most?”

Closing my eyes and exhaling quietly, I leaned my head back on the couch and twisted my finger around the string of my hoodie. As I searched the inside of my eyelids for any thoughts I might have filed away there on “the social importance of couture,” it occurred to me that I might not get this job. Phone interviews, at that time in my life… I wasn’t good at them.

So far that spring, I had slept through one, taken one hungover from California while on Spring Break and a third I had failed to even schedule. Now it was Easter weekend, and with only two months until I graduated college and moved to an apartment in New York that I had already signed a lease for, my desperation was beginning to bubble to the surface.

“Hm, well, fashion. I think it’s such an interesting industry because it’s so… fast moving, or, I mean, it changes so quickly. I’ve always wanted to be a part of such a fast-paced industry. And it really reflects the fast pace of current events as well. In the world. And around us. I mean. I just think fashion is so exciting, and I’ve always thought it would be so interesting to work in the industry, um….”

“Yes, definitely, thank you! Well look, I’ve got to run, and we are just swamped this month. If we have another opening in a couple of months, I’ll try to call you.”

Yep! Fair enough. I finished the dregs of my hot chocolate and officially pinned my very last hope to my Monday morning interview with a small technology PR firm in Manhattan.

Cut to three months later

I got the job! And that’s where I worked from July 2006 - April 2008. Although I have to extend sincere thanks to my employers for hiring me despite my fairly naked resume; training and promoting me despite my age; letting me order lunch from the expensive sandwich place for my last lunch meeting and paying for an extravagant goodbye happy hour, I also must admit: unemployment has been no less than GLORIOUS.

My last day was on Friday, April 4, and when I woke up on Saturday to sunshine and 60 degree weather, I finally realized that I am really, seriously, actually, for real leaving my job, my city and my apartment, and that it will really, seriously, actually, for real be COMPLETELY AWESOME.

Which brings me to the second part of Phase 1: my apartment. My apartment is on the second floor of an old row-home in Brooklyn near the park, and my landlady is a retired art teacher in her 60s who summers in Woodstock and takes teaching fellowships in places like rural Virginia in the winter. I looooove my apartment, and I looooove my landlady. I have huge windows that look out over an adorably neglected garden, my neighbors say hello and let me in when I get locked out, plus I have enough room for all my books, a TV, a dining room table and a full sized couch. Even worse, my landlady brings me flowers from the garden when they bloom, and once when I gave her Christmas cookies she gave me a set of cookie tins in return. How can I tell this woman that I’m leaving?

I finally bit the bullet today with a short note attached to my rent check. So far so good! She left me a sweet message and the realtor will begin showing the apartment this week. Guess I should clean up the wine bottles/maybe do some laundry for once? At the very least I should probably take care of this situation: