On Friday, 10/8/10, I quit my job where I was working in an office forty hours a week making money for someone else. It wasn't the worst job, but it was my first full-time salaried position and let me tell you, office work is for the birds.
I worked there for three years after 'the accident' (my bicycle vs. FedEx), and my intention was to get a job where I could focus on other aspects of my life while maintaining a decent income and group health insurance in case there were any additional problems after my initial recovery (which involved a wheelchair and was most certainly the worst thing that has ever happened to me). Unfortunately, I like to slurm around, and I like to party, so I never really made time after work to do those things I wanted to do. According to the initial plan, I should be in graduate school by now. Instead I'm just about where I was before; maybe a couple thousand dollars richer; maybe.
The first year I started to lose muscle mass. My arms got noticeably thinner, and I was already a skinny guy.
The second year my cardiovascular / respiratory system started to suffer. This could have been the result of the ridiculous amount of dust in the air, or it could have been the sedentary lifestyle I was living. I went to 30-some concerts that year and I like to dance, but that was about all of the exercise I was getting, and prior to this job I had a rather active lifestyle).
The third year my belly started to fatten up. Now I was really in trouble, because the only time I ever have any body fat at all is right after a long vacation, and that's usually gone in two weeks, but this was a persistent looking bit of fat that I could feel on my insides, which grossed me out. So by this time not only was I disliking my job, but I now thought that I was super-gross. No one should ever think they are super-gross.
And so, after spending about a year and a half more time with 'the company' than I should have, I...
1. Moved out of my apartment, which was eating up a decent part of my salary, but also all of my motivation. I had spent so much time slurming around in there that just arriving home was enough to put me into a stupor that would last until I fell asleep. Seriously... I watched a lot of TV on the internet. I'd been living out of my car at various places for about a month when I realized I had enough money to get out and so I...
2. gave my two-weeks notice and got the hell out of there.
Since I moved out of my apartment my life has been noticeably better; I've been getting out and seeing a lot of new things, getting exercise, and generally having a great time, so I could say that leaving my apartment was the beginning, but I'm going to call that the preface instead. The real beginning; the moment I am talking about here when I say "New Beginnings", is the day I left the office.
So here I am, recounting the adventures since that day, and providing them for all the world to see. Because apparently that's what people do now, and I'm an egotistical son of a bitch.
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