As many of you know, I quit my job. I don't have another job lined up, so today is my first weekday of indefinite unemployment since November of last year.
The most common question I've heard this past week about my quitting is: Why did I do it? What I've done isn't common. While there are many reasons to leave a job—sometimes workers find another job, sometimes they're laid off or fired, sometimes they retire—quitting to go be by oneself and have no income is unusual. So it makes sense that people are curious about my motives.
Nevertheless, I like to flip the question: Why not quit? I believe unemployment is the ideal state for most people; we work nine-to-five jobs as a compromise with a world that, for most people, doesn't let you live well without the compensation a job provides. Foremost, people work for the money, though a surging second-place motive for full-time employment is insurance benefits. There are also some intangible benefits to working a job—or at least there should be—such as gaining a sense of accomplishment or spending the day socially, in the presence of other workers. Some people might assert that their job is important to society and few if anyone can replace them and do their job as well. I suppose.
But if unemployment is the ideal state—and let me clarify that I'm talking about unemployment
as any alternative to working full-time to make profits for someone else, and yes I'm aware this is strange definition of the term—then presumably people who're employed are missing some critical ingredient for living life unemployed. As to what those ingredients usually are, we need only traverse the list of motives from the previous paragraph. For most people the primary missing ingredient is money. For many others it's stable health care coverage. And for some others it's a lack of a sense of accomplishment in their life away from the office, or a feeling of loneliness.
So why did I quit? Now the answer should be a little clearer: For the time being, my life is going well.
9 comments:
The classic Distributists would perhaps call what you are doing, breaking free from wage-slavery. I applaud you as usual for acting from your principles.
All the best in this endeavor, whatever it brings you.
Josh— Thank you, thank you, no applause. No really, no applause. I'm sure I'll don the shackles of wage-slavery again. For now it suffices for me to follow my principles because doing so doesn't jeopardize my happiness.
And… happy belated birthday there, old buddy!
Well, we musicians live for applause, I suppose because there isn't any money in it. I guess I pay homage with the currency I have at hand.
Thanks for the birthday greeting - I had a good day capped by a long and late rehearsal. I can't believe you remember it still. I honestly forgot when yours is, but happy belated birthday for the last 12 or 15 years to you too.
JEC: A great post and as always, I'm glad to know you're in a great state...and glad you're still in Arizona too. Separately, you know that your "working-for-the-man" streak really kinda sucks, right?
Bobby et al.— You're right. Here at JEC, the streak most certainly does not go on.
Craig, I hope you grow something during your time out of the office. :)
And does that mean your internet is going to go dark at some point soon? (Sorry I'm getting this memo late--I quit using a blog reader and now just read blogs when the whim strikes).
Lindsey— Grow up, maybe?
My Internet is the same as yours: it will go dark only after the remaining economically accessible fossil fuels are put to better uses than serving up countless gigabytes of cat videos.
Hahaha! I hope you did not read that as growing a pair of anything...lol (After a glass or two of wine, I come back to this tonight and think, goodness, what do I sound like?!). Anyway, I meant vegetables, or perhaps fruit. What you do you like to eat? What can you grow in Arizona? Do you ever think about something crazy like bee-keeping?
Lindsey— Ah, the growing of food is a sad point is our home these days. We've got nothing going on on our balcony—not even an inert pot of dirt.
Phoenix is a tough place to garden because it has two distinct growing seasons. The summer heat kills just about any garden crop. Nevertheless, I ought to be using my time here to learn other skills, such as composting. What I've learned so far is that it's hard to keep soldier flies out of compost.
As for beekeeping, I do indeed think about someday keeping bees. Truth be told, I'm more excited about bees and compost than I am about growing, say, tomatoes and beans. I guess I like only the things that attract the flies.
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