Did you ever see that move, “Sliding Doors”, starring Gwyneth Paltrow? The one where during part of it she has a really bad wig? She used to be kind of cool back then, before she married Chris Martin from Coldplay and then got far too fancy.Me neither, I never saw it. From what I understand, though, the premise is about how a woman’s life changes based on a decision. Crazy to think that one instant can change the trajectory of your life forever.
Have you ever thought about your own life that way? About the moments that define the path your life takes, and those that have led you to where you are now? Decisions like whether to go to that party in high school or stay on the couch watching a Blockbuster movie with your family, to say yes or no to a date, to go to a certain university, to grab that condom or say “fuck it” (literally), to take one job over another, to move to another city, to mend that relationship or let it go, to have kids or not, to leave a bad situation or stay because it’s less scary, to say yes to something you’re afraid of?
I’ve made one of those decisions for myself. A big one.
I know what you’re thinking, that I’m going off on some rant about how it’s probably about what kind of wine to drink while I’m watching my latest Netflix binge, Bates Motel.
Please tell me you’re watching the show. Are you watching it? Because it is totes amazing. Man did those writers do a fantastic job of creating an fucked up story about why Norman Bates is the way that he is and how freaking CRAZY his mother is. And that season opener for season 3? I mean, Norman spooning his mother? Yuck. Like creepy yuck. Like on the cusp of incestuous but not and just gross and it made me feel so yucky, and I can’t wait to keep watching the show to find out what happens. And also when I’m not being grossed out by the whole Norman-and-his-mom thing, then I’m staring at the teeth of the dude who plays his brother, Max Theiriot. His veneers! Ugh, they’re worse than Timothy Olyphant’s. Just, not good. They’re as fake as Lisa Rinna’s face. No es bueno. But the show, watch it.
Yeah, so anyway, big decision. I’m quitting my job. I’m leaving. No more day long meetings, or serving as the complaint department, or as playing tech support, or trying to help someone manage his way out of paper bag, or stroking some douche bag’s ego. Life’s too short to be in a job that poisons your soul.
In exactly 61 days I’m submitting my resignation. I’m out.
Fingers crossed I win the lotto between now and then or I might have to go back to turning tricks behind the Safeway or dancing for nickels.