Quit Your Job and Share a Cinnamon Roll with Friends Kind of Day

Today’s agenda: 
8AM-  Quit my job.
11AM-  Go to a hipster coffee shop and share a cinnamon roll with my friends.
 
 
My schedule is looking pretty open, after quitting my job and sharing my cinnamon roll. What’s next?
 
 
I moved to Portland in September, and quickly found a job. The job I started was apparent to me on the second day, that it was something I would loathe. I moved to Portland to become a better version of myself. I wanted to find growth in an environment that I did not already have roots in. This morning I woke up and decided that the evolving version of myself does not work in a cubical with no natural sunlight. Last week in a moment of contemplation, I listened to my coworker make a phone call while I ran my hand along the fabric of my cubical wall. The wall was the most depressing shade of blue I have ever seen. I have never been the type of person to find the color blue sad. To me, blue is sunshiny days, powerful ocean waves, my favorite sweater, and the color of my mom’s eyes. This cubical was a sterile blue, with the texture of goosebumps running along the fabric. I hated it. More importantly, I did not find purpose or joy in the type of work I was doing. I think if I REALLY loved the job, I could have brought one of those “happy lights” in to my cubical and decorated it with pictures to cover up the atrocious-blue-goosebumps-walls. I knew this was not the time in my life to be complacent. So, I woke up this morning and quit. I cheersed the quick departure from my new job with a cinnamon roll. I’m currently writing this blog from the coffee shop. My friend saw me taking a picture of the cinnamon roll we demolished and asked if I was romanticizing the moment. Yes, I am. That’s ok sometimes; to find charm in a moment of uncertainty. I had worked the same job for most of my adult life, so I am not concerned about finding something long term. This job just wasn’t it for me. I need something creative and people centered. I NEED SUNLIGHT, not cubical shadows with fluorescent lighting. I am proud of myself for leaving a situation that stifled my happiness, because there has been a less wise version of me who would have stayed. I feel pretty good about being 25 in a new city, with no obligation to stay in a job with no joy. 
 
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Other thoughts on my move to Portland!
 
I love so many things about this city. The first being that I am so close to the ocean. It feels like a back of the mind comfortto know that I am a short, hour and a half drive to coast. I could listen to the waves crash on a whim. I am also a big fan of Portland’s food and coffee scene. I will say this about the hipsters of PDX- they do ambiance, food, coffee, and sneakers really well. I like to think that I blend in the crowd of hipsters, but in moments of people watching in the city, they have something that I don’t. I could just be overthinking it, like I do most things, but the hipsters seem so much cooler than me. I think of the clothing they wear- thrifty and effortless. I think of myself, and the sweatshirts that I’ve tossed on during this fall. My clothes are not old enough to be vintage, and not new enough to be fashion. I just want what those Portland hipsters have! Cool shoes, and flannels that look like in another life they were owned by someone who dabbled in grunge… or logging. After our coffee shop stop, my friends and I stopped for a quick lunch at a North Portland brewery. We walked around the streets and noticed the wet leaves covering the sidewalks. Portland in the fall is a cozy vibe. We dipped in and out of stores, and I left with a post card to send my mom. I want to start writing more handwritten letters. Who doesn’t love getting a letter in the mail?! The only mail I typically receive is bills… haha. On our drive home we passed by runners who were enjoying the view of the river with their exercise. I watched an older gentleman with a great stride glide across the leaves as he ran. He seemed like the kind of guy who had life figured out. Glimpsing at my reflection in the car window, I felt very opposite of the old runner. Here I was slightly panicked and relieved, having just quit my job. Maybe I should start running? Maybe I invest in a great sports bra and running shoes and figure life out.............Maybe I should feel less inspired by perfect strangers, and more inspired by finding a job that makes me happy. I don’t know. I haven’t updated the blog for a few months, so a little blog post seemed overdue. Maybe next time you hear from me, I’ll have started a project-job that I really love! Or maybe I’ll be the kind of wise soul who jogs along the river. 
 
 
(I hate running)
 
 
-Libby 

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