Get that violin outta here

I won’t say it felt good to quit, because I didn't hate my job. It was just time to graduate from the first level to the second. That’s just how it goes in advertising. You make no money, take another job. Make no money, take another job. Make more money, you’re overpaid. Then they let you go at 44.

I will say that the best thing about quitting for me actually happened about 2 and a half weeks prior. A fellow employee approached me in the hallway to commiserate about the state of our agency, which has undeniably been in turmoil. She and I had been there a pretty long time…maybe too long. Luckily, both she and I had survived a round of layoffs, and everyone was still staggering though the hallways like a collective open wound.

So I was used to commiserating. That I can do. But what really stuck in my craw was the fact that she began to give me a pep talk. In a way that really was her own personal pity, but that included me in the whole sordid ordeal. It was like one of the titanic violinists convincing the others to keep playing. “The captain loves the way we play, we might not get a better gig than this, and we're better people for staying.” I know she was trying to be helpful. And nice. But it made me a little sick.

A couple weeks later I quit. And now that I think about it, I suppose not feeling a little sick felt pretty good, so I take that back.

It felt a little bit good to quit.