It’s been a year since I resigned from my job as a financial analyst. After almost 20 years of employment, with the same company, I walked away. I wasn’t looking for a career change – I wanted out. I had been on a medical leave of absence since late April and the thought of returning to a job that made my home and personal life miserable absolutely turned my stomach. My husband supported my decision 100% and my children were extremely happy. The only thing I regret about resigning from my job last summer was that I didn’t do it sooner. My career did not define me. There is life after resignation.
My co-workers understood. Many of them wanted to resign from their positions, but were afraid. Who wouldn’t be? The economy sucked and it’s not easy to walk away from money. When was the last time you walked pass a dollar and left it lying on the sidewalk? I’m not ashamed. I pick up pennies. Always have – always will.
My parents and siblings thought I was crazy. They still do. Maybe I am.
They refer to the school of thought that believes if a person is physically able to work they should work. No one in their right mind quits a job, unless you’re quitting a job to accept another job, but not just any job, a job that pays more money. Since I wasn’t quitting my job for that reason, frankly put, I was an idiot.
For weeks, they would ask when I was going back to work. Weeks turned into months and here it is – one year later. The question still stands. They cannot wrap their brains around the fact that I choose not to work and as a family we made lifestyle changes that afford me the opportunity of not HAVING to work.
Life after resignation definitely agrees with me. I spend most days traveling, eating Bonbons and drinking bottomless mimosas. NOT!
I don’t like Bonbons and mimosas, which while tasty, don’t always do the trick. Have I mentioned that I have a teenage daughter and son?
Unbeknownst to the peanut gallery, some days are just as challenging and at times more stressful then any work day I’ve ever experienced, but I’m not complaining. Unemployment was my decision. Maybe I’ll go back to work in the future. Who knows? If I base my decision on my first year of retirement (Boy- I like the sound of that!) all I know for sure is that a bad day retired beats a good day working.