The day I quit: Tired
The day after I quit: Shocked but delighted
The day after the day after I quit: Just delighted
It's currently 9:27 a.m. on Monday. The time that my daily status meeting ends at the office.
But since I quit my job last week, instead of walking out of the meeting with status sheets in my hand, I'm sitting on my chaise lounge chair, draped in an afghan with a coffee in my hand.
Best. Moment. Ever.
I thought that after I did it, after I left the job, that I'd be visited by my inner Mr. Panic Head. He wears a suit and is so high strung that he makes coffee nervous. He runs around in circles and starts every sentence with "What if..."
But, no sign of him so far.
I've only noticed a deep fatigue, coupled with feelings of relief and happiness. I'm tired but I'm happy. Like a mom who just gave birth and is holding her baby.
My baby is time. Wonderful, beautiful, perfect time.
I think this is what relaxing feels like. I just haven't felt relaxed in so long that I don't recognize it.
It feels a bit like a cold.