by isaac black

My last day went about as planned–festive well-wishes from coworkers, very little work done, a near-constant smile of freedom and giddiness. The exit interview was more just a going over of benefits than an interview. The only thing that surprised me was a moment as I was leaving, while my department was half-facetiously clapping for me, that I felt a twinge of sadness. Maybe even a touch of fear that I’ll miss the office. And then as quickly as it came it was gone.

My brother asked over email why I was quitting, since I hadn’t talked to him yet about it. My answer was straightforward: “I don’t like working and I can afford not to for a while.” It’s honest, but I couldn’t help but feel it was a little provocative. It’s not like my brothers love working, but I think they’ve internalized my dad’s attitude just as much as I. “You can’t just not work.” Opting out of it seems to them, I’m pretty sure, short-sighted, selfish even. Not because I could be doing more selfless things with my money but because there’s money to be earned. Be anxious for tomorrow, for tomorrow won’t be anxious for itself.

It hasn’t quite settled in, probably because it still feels like an ordinary Friday. Monday morning though, while I’m driving to Glacier National Park for the rest of the work week, will probably be a different story.