October 20, 2002.
Back to the Salt Mines


It's been quite a little week for Our Little Grace.

Oh, I had such grand plans! I was going to post a marvelous journal entry right here! I was going to start it by saying:

On Wednesday morning I quit my job.

See, I've been thinking about quitting my job for a long time now. Things at my company have been so wobbly and uncertain and so many people have been laid off and the few that haven't lost their jobs are looking around nervously wringing their hands. Our office, which has space enough for 35 people, is down to 7 lonely (...overworked) souls.

I was going to quit and do freelance design work for a while. It was a wonderful dream. Yes, I'm sure that being self-employed has its own down sides, but I was pretty excited about it. I bought a cell phone. I applied for my own health insurance coverage. And on Wednesday morning I walked in to my boss's office and did the deed. I gave my notice. I was polite but firm. I said my little bit and gave my good reasons. I quit.

Well, I guess I can actually write what I originally intended to write.

On Wednesday morning I quit my job.

But I have to follow up by saying:

On Thursday morning I un-quit my job.

Allright. Maybe I was just jumping the gun. I can see now that quitting was premature. On Thursday they offered a heart-warming plea to stay and a hefty raise. I buckled.

What else could I do? When I put my freelancing ambitions under the magnifying glass I found that they did not hold up next to the new offer. I lost traction when I started putting more thought into which kind of cell phone I wanted than where those freelance clients were going to come from.

And at the same time, the economy is still jittery enough to make me appreciate a more established routine, at least for now.

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The ad agency where I work is hard to leave. It's a lot like a family. I've been there for more than five years. It started out years ago as a modest little shop run by a husband-and-wife team. The husband and wife have since gone, but the place still bears their name (as well as lingering remnants of their dysfunctional relationship).

But I like it there. I like the people I work with — heck, I respect the people I work with. The other designers on staff are almost ridiculously talented. There is plenty of good stuff for me to soak up there.

I couldn't help but feel on Wednesday that by quitting, I was "betraying the family."

This was certainly evidenced by my boss's words when I attempted to resign on Wednesday. "You were in the long-term plan. I'm really disappointed. I thought you were one of us."

I should probably just start referring to the company here as "The Gambino Agency."

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The good news is that the freelance option is not going away. It'll always be there for me to pick up. Next time I quit, though, I want to really mean it. Maybe I need to put that fancy new cell phone to good use and slowly drum up some work for my fledgling side business.

At this point, I wouldn't so much mind being let go. A gentle send-off and a full severance package might just be the inspiration I needed to get my freelance business off the ground.

That's sort of an awful thing to think, but it really wouldn't be so bad.

But for now, it's back to work, back to the salt mines, back to the drawing board.